Why The Caged Bird Sings
by killah-sama
Summary: [DxD KS] Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke – something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.
1. Prologue: Enter the Cellblock

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

**Disclaimer: **NO OWN, NO SUE, I _SO _PWN, and _YOU _ARE A SHOE.

Beware of perversion. Period. And possible OOC-ness.

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There were some sounds you only heard on television. Of these sounds included the chattering of talking mammals, the whirring hum of a black hole swallowing up your spaceship, the snowy crunch of grandma getting run over by a reindeer, and the sick collision of bullet on flesh. Of course, the clichéd sound of strong steel bars sliding shut right in front of your face – casting a striped, shadowed pattern over you and your cell, securing you in for eternity, and locking all traces of happiness out – was a top priority on this list of sounds.

But this sinister noise was not on Daisuke's list; he did not need a TV to hear this noise. It was reality.

With melancholy eyes, he gazed out from behind the prison's entrance, where his family and friends had assembled to bid him good luck and an exaggerated, "Oh, my baby is in jail! Don't you worry a bit, Dai-chan! We'll break you out soon!" from Emiko. A guard pressed a button, and their figures were sliced into little columns by rusty silver bars. The bars shed a sad, dark shadow over Daisuke's face, and he knew by the loud _clang_ of steel on steel that the door had slid shut and all bouts of freedom were lost.

"Prisoner zero zero eight two four nine five?" another guard questioned, staring at Daisuke pointedly through tinted glasses. His eyes were pointed at the white number printed onto the pocket of the young man's baggy black slacks. Slung over his side was a rather long rifle. It glinted malevolently; it was shiny. But it wasn't the good shiny.

'Prisoner 0082495' nodded resolutely, jaw set in a frown. He didn't want to seem like a softie in front of all these strangers. He had watched enough TV to know that softies were abused by guards and made bitches by burly men named Bubba. Daisuke stifled a nervous titter as the guard – whom he had dubbed Rifle Man – led him out the rather clean-looking, lobby-like part of the prison where he had checked in. The redhead was brought to a door labeled 'Cellblock 6,' and Rifle Man stopped abruptly. He grasped his rifle with both hands, pulling it from its strap, and tapped the door with it. 'Go in,' was the wordless implication.

Daisuke, who had apprehensively thought Rifle Man was going to shoot him in the face, sighed silently in relief and nodded. He slowly shuffled through the open door (for the door had been opened by Rifle Man), and was greeted by a dimly lit cellblock that reeked of blood, urine, and…sex.

Daisuke swallowed. Uh-oh.

"Hey."

Daisuke jumped and turned. Beside him stood a guard with a cap on and his eyes shadowed. His voice was gruff and a cigarette poked out of the corner of his lips, spewing rivulets of smoke into the already dreary air. He leaned adjacent to the wall, arms akimbo and right leg bent against the stone idly, breathing his cigarette in calmly. "You new?"

Daisuke nodded wordlessly, eyes tracing over the guard's form. A police baton was strapped to his belt, along with a large ring of silver keys and a small black walkie-talkie; Daisuke looked past them and saw the brown handle of a handgun sticking out of a holster on the other end of his belt.

"Like my gun, do you?" the guard observed, having caught Daisuke's gaze on his belt. He unfolded his arms and pulled the gun from its holster, holding it out in front of his buckle. Running his thumb over the silver nose of the gun and rubbing circles above the trigger, he turned his head and watched the redhead intently. "It sure is _hard_, don't you think?" He grinned and slowly ran one hand along the gun's handle. "If you touch it _just right_, it goes _boom_." The grin grew lecherously, and the guard inched toward Daisuke until they were only a few inches away. "And then _something_ just _lovely_ comes out." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, putting Daisuke under the impression that he wasn't talking about his gun at all. In fact, it was something entirely different from his gun, if Daisuke's suspicions were correct.

"Ugh." Daisuke stuck his tongue out in disgust. "Get away from me, you sicko."

The guard glared at him evilly, still caressing his gun. "Humph. You don't mean that. You _love_ me. You want to lick my gun with that tongue of yours." And the sick grin returned.

Daisuke stared at him incredulously. "No. I don't." He backed up a little, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. "Don't get near me, you pervert."

"Playing hard to get, are ya?"

Daisuke backed up a little more, beginning to get a little nervous. "Uh… Why don't you just show me to my cell?" This guy was seriously freaking him out…

"Your cell-" He inched closer. "-is my room." His smile grew. "You can bunk with me."

And just when the perverted freak of a prison guard made a move to grab Daisuke's arm, the door sprang open, smashing straight into his face.

"Eep," Daisuke eeped, jumping back from the stopped door and guard's fallen body. "I didn't do it."

"Glad to hear that. No one should do it with old Yayoi here. He's weird."

Daisuke looked up from the guard's twitching figure and raised his eyes to his savior. In the doorway stood a young man about his age – maybe a little older – with dark brown hair and cheerful chocolate eyes. He grinned at him, one small fang bared in Daisuke's direction, whilst giving the fallen guard a good kick in the thigh.

"But don't worry about him. He's harmless." The raven-haired man touched his hand to his head and grinned, friendly. "By the way, I'm Saehara. Guard Saehara Takeshi. I patrol Cellblock 6 – and I'm here to bring you to your cell, since sicko over here can't." He kicked the guard again.

Daisuke nodded slowly. "Okay."

Takeshi pulled a clipboard out from behind his back and scrolled his finger down a list Daisuke couldn't see. "Prisoner 0082495…" he murmured to himself, eyes following the descending digit as it moved down. "Zero zero eight two… Zero zero… Ah. Niwa Daisuke?" He glanced inquiringly at Daisuke, who nodded in affirmation. "Cell 608. Oh man… That can't be good…"

Daisuke's ears perked and his head swiveled madly to face Takeshi. "What can't be good? What's wrong?" His anxiety levels began to rise again in response to Takeshi's words. "What?"

Takeshi's eyes slowly trailed down Daisuke's body, making the redhead feel a trifle uncomfortable. He feared that this surprisingly nice man was another pervert, but to his relief, Takeshi quickly tore his eyes away and sighed. The guard made a clicking noise with his tongue and shook his head in pity. "Man, that sucks for you. So innocent-looking, too." He had murmured the last part to himself, but Daisuke had managed to hear it, if only barely.

"What?" Daisuke asked again, hoping to receive an answer.

"Nothing." Takeshi's voice had grown curt and business-like, the complete opposite of the lax, cheerful façade he had been showing Daisuke. "Nothing's wrong. Follow me, convict." He threw the last word out carelessly, not really meaning the bad denotation underlying the negative name.

But Daisuke quieted down at the word 'convict.' This was prison, he realized as he followed Takeshi down a stone path that ran adjacent to dozens of cells. He couldn't expect to be given answers he ignorantly asked for, from a guard of all people. He would need to shape up. The redhead lifted his chin and walked calmly after brunette, ignoring the many pairs of eyes that stalked him through the bars he had walked past.

Takeshi stopped and Daisuke followed suit. The shorter male stared up at the wall, where the sign "Cell 608" was painted. Below it was two pairs of numbers, each of them seven digits: 0183946, 0091637, 0027943, and Daisuke's number, 0082495. His own number's fresh coloring contrasted against the other three faded numbers, indicating that it was newly painted.

Takeshi's eyes darted between the wall and his clipboard until he nodded grimly. "This is your stop," he informed Daisuke with a precautious expression on his face. He detached a ring of keys from his belt, unlocked the dead bolt that secured the door to the wall, and slid the steel bars open. "Good luck," the guard stated with a tiny inkling of mirth in his eyes. He unceremoniously pushed Daisuke into the cell and locked it from behind, making the cheerful jingling of his keys ring through the air.

"Eh…" Daisuke stood rather stupidly in the middle of the seemingly empty cell, soaking in his surroundings.

His cell was a surprisingly comfortable place. Though the stone walls looked dank and depressing, it didn't rub off on the atmosphere, which seemed relaxed, and not at all forbidding. It was a fairly large cell, with the most basic of things scattered around its breadth. Pushed to the left and right sides of the room were two pairs of bunk beds, structured with some sort of silver metal and furnished with scratchy-looking sheets. Footlockers were positioned at the feet of the beds, two chests per bottom bunk, and situated against the far wall of the cell hung things that Daisuke was sure weren't supposed to be in a jail cell: a mirror, several hair brushes, a drawer, and a corkboard stabbed with thumbtack notes and adhesive post-its.

However, in the corner of the cell sat a toilet, a sight that made Daisuke blanch. He wasn't comfortable with his body as it was, and to have to…relieve himself in front of three other strangers – convicts of all people! – was a nightmare. Highly self-conscious of himself, he often used the stalls in public bathrooms, rather than the urinals.

Contemplating his problem at hand, the redhead barely heard the bars of his cell door slide open. It was the soft pace of graceful footsteps that alerted him of someone else's presence, and when the seemingly innocent sound reached his ears, he jumped in alarm. Slowly, he twisted his neck, his chest, his knees, and finally, the position of his feet until he was completely facing the intruder.

What his boob-tube-fueled mind expected was not what his large scarlet eyes saw. Instead of a large, scary man with scars and tattoos covering every inch of rough, misshapen skin, Daisuke stood before a tall, slender man about his age with pale, unblemished skin and iridescent hair the color of the sky. Stylish-looking glasses shielded his aquamarine eyes, giving him the intellectual look of a scholar, and his clothing, although an identical match to Daisuke's, were primly pressed and neat.

The man regarded Daisuke with blank eyes before turning away in disinterest. "Your bunk is that one," he informed him calmly, almost nicely, pointing at the bunk bed to his right. "You sleep on the top, and your footlocker is the one of the left. I expect the guards have put your belongings in it already; they've been swarming in and out of here all morning." The pale man strolled over to the set of beds across from Daisuke's and climbed into his own bottom bunk, setting his bottom onto it calmly and continuing his regard-this-stranger-in-my-cell game.

Daisuke nodded his thanks, wary of the now silent man sitting beside him. Did he have to keep staring at him like that? Oh no! What if he was 'checking him out – jailhouse style'?

Daisuke panicked, his inner self screaming and running circles in his head. What if the man with glasses wanted to…get close…to him? The redhead's eyes widened. What if he wanted to get…_really_ close…to him? No, no, _no_! He did _not_ want to become someone's bitch, just like in those movies and hit dramas. Sure, the blunette _was_ a little handsome, and didn't look like he was able to inflict much pain or force on him…but Daisuke didn't want to engage in any…special relationships with him.

He didn't swing that way, thank you very much.

Daisuke escaped and righted his panicked fears, steadying himself resolutely and getting ready to glare at the slender man just in case he was still making eyes at him. He pulled his face into a scowl, baring is teeth and furrowing his eyebrows, fruitlessly trying to make himself seem less weak and vulnerable in front of his new cellmate. He directed this pathetic excuse of a protective mask toward the pale, slender man to his side, only to gasp, reel back in surprise, and drop it immediately.

The man was lying flat with his back pressed against the sheets of his mattress, his hands exploring freely and head cocking back in bliss. The thing was: there was another man on top of him, straddling his slim hips and sporting equally free, exploring hands. The two were all over each other – lips pressing against lips, tongue battling against tongue, uniform-clad body grinding against uniform-clad body – and it seemed as though they were connected by the mouth.

The tresses of a long, golden ponytail pooled over the dominant man's shoulders, dripping down his wife beater top and creating a thick river of gold atop the sheets. Daisuke also noticed that there was one lock of equally long hair – perhaps it was an overly-long bang, or perhaps it hadn't managed to be snared by the black hair tie that was holding up the rest of the plait – that flowed limply down the blonde man's forehead, dropping into the crook of the blunette's neck and melting into his cropped, crystalline hair.

Daisuke breathed out a sigh of relief. Okay. So Mr.-Stare-At-Daisuke-Creepily was taken. That was good. Neither he nor the blonde man would make any moves toward him (or at least he hoped so; the rules of fidelity had to be enforced in prison too, right?), and for that he was glad.

But then again… There were four numbers painted on the wall, four bunks, four footlockers, and a blackish-purple hairbrush sitting innocently on the surface of the bunk beneath Daisuke's. There was obviously a fourth person who belonged in this cell.

Daisuke gasped (within his head, so as to not interrupt his…busy…cellmates) and immediately went into panic mode once again. If the blue man and the yellow man were together, that meant only he and the fourth convict were left. Putting two and two together, Daisuke came up with one conclusion: he was doomed.

What if the last man was scary? Mean? Sex-crazed? What if he was forceful and abusive, and just plain insane (hey, he _was_ in jail, after all)? Worst of all, what if the two mean making out beside him decided to _feed_ him to this supposedly scary, mean, sex-crazed, forceful, abusive, and crazy man? Daisuke was too young to die! …And too straight to engage in sexual relationships with gay, horny criminals.

No! Daisuke could fight this! – _would_ fight this. There was no way in hell he would ever let himself be lured into an illegitimate jailhouse romance. …And even if he did end up in one, at least he could say he had gone down fighting tooth and nail.

"Hey, new guy." A tap on the shoulder pulled Daisuke from his resolute musings, and he turned to face the speaker, cocking his head in bewilderment. It was the slim, bi-spectacled man again, though this time around, his hair was in a mild state of disarray and his formerly tidy uniform had been haphazardly rumpled and creased.

"Stop thinking to yourself. By the look on your face as you attempt to, it seems as though you're having a very hard time. Also, you space out completely. If you don't watch out and stay alert, someone might just come up and decide to rape you," the blunette warned rather bluntly, his eyes blank and emotionless.

The blonde man embraced his other from behind, nodding helpfully. Now that Daisuke got a good look at his face, he noticed that this man, too, was quite attractive. His face was angular, his features sharp, and his eyes narrowed like a feline's, their iris color matching that of his hair. "If I didn't have my Satoshi-sama, _I_ would have jumped you myself." He nuzzled the shorter man's neck, as though demonstrating the point of his 'joke,' but the convincing tone of his voice and the unholy sparkle in his eyes made the hairs of Daisuke' neck stand on end.

"Al-alright then," Daisuke replied as he stuffed his hands into his pockets (for there was nothing else to do with them).

"Don't stutter," the blunette advised.

"Ah – yes. Thank you," Daisuke stated uncertainly, a flustered look flashing across his face.

"Don't say thanks or express gratitude of any sort, either – unless it's a sexy moan or giving head in the middle of sex," the blonde stately seriously, smirking devilishly as the smaller man within his arms rolled his aquamarine eyes.

"…M'kay…" Daisuke trailed off, tentative of what to say.

"Don't hesitate before talking."

"Don't put your hands in your pockets."

"Don't provoke the people bigger than you (which is everyone)."

"Don't cry."

"Don't whine."

This went on for what seemed like forever. Daisuke crossed his arms (he had taken his hands out of his pockets when the blonde man had warned him not to stick them in there) and resisted the urge to yell at them. Sure, they were more acquainted with the prison life, they were more experienced, and they seemed nice enough (for criminals, anyway), but all the advice they were spewing was _boring_.

When the most ridiculous thing humanly possible was said ("Don't eat yellow snow."), Daisuke growled lowly, having finally snapped. He uncrossed his arms irately, eye twitching and gentle face contorting with a mild scowl. "Listen here, you," he interrupted, referring to the both of them. "You've been helpful, but now you're just being stupid. I'd rather you not continue."

The blonde one fixed Daisuke with a smoldering stare, regarding him with narrow, bullion eyes. Then, a rather cheesy smile broke out on his sharp face, and he nodded energetically, his mood taking a complete 360-degree turn. "That was right what I was getting to. Don't be a wuss. Stand up for yourself." He reached out over the blunette's shoulder, patted Daisuke on the head, and rewrapped his arm around his boyfriend. "I hope you've learned your lesson," he stated not unkindly, like a teacher – something he was not – who actually had a lesson to teach – something he did not.

The blunette arched his neck up and placed a chaste kiss in the crook of the blonde's neck. However, the blonde had other ideas (none of them even remotely chaste), and once the embraced man pulled away from his neck, he swooped down and instigated yet another make out session. The pale man gladly obliged.

Blushing slightly at the spectacle before him, Daisuke politely turned his gaze, staring rather interestedly at an off-white stone amongst the rest of its gray brothers. It wasn't until a good-natured catcall rang through the air did he decide to look up.

"There's _sex_ in the cell! Quick, quick, I must join!"

Daisuke ducked his head and barely glanced at the newest intruder before quickly averting his gaze. However, he managed to get a good look at his fourth cellmate despite his scant glimpse. Standing leisurely against the open bars of the cell door with his bare arms crossed stood a man about the blonde man's age, his striking face pulled into a derisive smirk. His slanted amethyst eyes glittered with an unspoken laughter, giving him a calm but cocky look. His hair, which stuck out in all directions but still managed to look kept, shone brightly with a mauve glint against his tousled sea of royal purple. Dressed casually in only a white wife beater and black slacks branded with his prison number, he was the epitome of charisma.

"Eh?" The purple-haired man arched an inquiring eyebrow and uncrossed his arms. "What's this?" His smirk grew wider. "New meat?"

The suspense hung suspended midair, thick enough to cut with a knife, and enthralling music filled the cell, enshrouding the already shady atmosphere with drama.

_Oh yeah_, Daisuke mused anxiously as the forbidding melody rang louder within his head. _I've been watching too much TV._

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**Killah:** And thus, the first chapter of my second DNAngel fic is complete. It be DarkxDai! Ahhhh/runs around in circles drooling/ Yaaaaayyyy! XDDD And yesh, yesh, I know: this chapter was pretty pointless – but fear not! This is merely a prologue! Introductions, infatuations, and **bouts of insane pervertedness** are yet to come! Yaaayy for pervertedness! Hee hee hee hee. xD

Don't forget to **review**!


	2. Enter the Infatuation

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, and mild language.

Thanks for all the reviews, ya'll! I'm so glad that you liked my prologue! …And my summary. xDDD /runs around in circles/ And now… /suspenseful music/ I present you with some long awaited…pervertedness!

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"Naa, naa." The blonde disconnected himself from the blunette and placed his slender hands on his hips in mock-admonishment. "Dark, don't scare the poor guy already. He might never want to look you in the face again because of this."

The man at the door ran a tanned hand through his plum locks and chuckled. "It's not much of a big loss to me," he remarked, eyes narrowing mischievously. "I rather like the view of his backside."

Daisuke jumped and whirled around madly, turning to glare at the man who had spawned such an inappropriate comment. "Ex_cuse_ me?" he questioned, sure that his eyes were smoldering vehemently.

"And his face is even prettier!" was the cheerful response. "…Albeit not as round and voluptuous…"

If Daisuke were a girl, he would have screeched his indignation. Fortunately, he wasn't one; unfortunately, his only way to express said indignation was to glare at the heliotrope-haired man before him, something he knew he couldn't do very well. "I am _not_ pretty," he snapped, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. "And I'll thank you not to stare at my butt!"

"Maybe I don't want to be thanked. Maybe I want to stare at your butt." A loud buzzing noise filled the air, and the bars of their cell quickly began to slide to the left. The man with wine-colored eyes advanced a step to prevent himself from being caught by the gate, and in doing so, took a running leap forward. This caught Daisuke by surprise, and before the redhead knew it, he was on the ground with the wind knocked out of his chest and an over-enthusiastic convict hovering over him. "And ram you hard right here and right now."

The blush on Daisuke's cheeks spread as quickly as wildfire and he squirmed uncomfortably beneath the forward man above him. "Uh…" What _could_ he say in a situation like this? "…No thanks?" Oh yeah. _Real_ smooth.

Suddenly, two pairs of arms swooped down over them and pulled the taller man off Daisuke's awkward form, the first pair heaving at his underarms and the second going for his unruly hair. Within a few seconds, the purple and red men were detached from each other, though the latter was still sprawled on the stone floor with a frown and a blush marring his features.

"Thank you," Daisuke sighed out on relief, propping himself up on his elbows but not rising to his feet. He shot the golden and azure-eyed men grateful looks and tried his best to ignore the dark-haired man with a pout on his face in between them.

The amethyst-eyed man struggled fruitlessly against his captors. "Look at him, just lying there!" he tried to reason. "With giant, sparkling eyes and that thankful, little smile. He's just asking to be jumped! _Lemme jump him._"

The blonde and blunette exchanged simultaneous glances before nodding in agreement over the finicky man's head. The sapphire-eyed one's glasses shined completely white for a moment, and the second after, the violet-haired man crumpled to the floor, temporarily clocked out by the combined force of their fists on his exceptionally hard skull.

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About half an hour later – maybe more, maybe less – found Daisuke lying stomach-down on the bottom bunk of his bed structure, his body stretched out horizontally to face the set of beds opposite to his. An unconscious, violet-haired pervert lay a foot away from him, having been unceremoniously dumped there to dry. The resident couple sat across from the redhead, the topaz-eyed one in the same position as him while the cobalt-eyed one sat on the floor with his back against the side of the mattress.

"Introductions, anyone?" the blonde suggested, folding his arms beneath his chin and glancing shortly at Daisuke with piercing tawny eyes.

Daisuke mirrored the older man's movements and nodded. "Sure, I guess."

"I am Krad." The ochre-eyed man – Krad – shifted slightly and glared pointedly at Daisuke. "Hikari Krad." He seemed to dislike his surname, though the scarlet-haired man was not sure why; Hikari was a beautiful name. "I'm 22 years old, have been here for a year, and have seven years left to go."

"Hiwatari Satoshi," the younger man – Satoshi – informed blankly. An almost unnoticeable shadow passed over his eyes before disappearing completely. "I'm 19 – I've been here for a year and I've got seven years left in this place, too."

"…So what are you in for?" Daisuke asked rather bluntly, curious to why they had the same amount of sentencing.

"For killing our father." This answer of equal bluntness was accompanied by a blasé smile, courtesy of Krad.

Daisuke froze. "…What?"

"That's right." Satoshi balled his hands into fists and glared at the wall behind Daisuke's head. "Cut that bastard up into a million pieces and fed him to the neighbor's dog." He sounded uncharacteristically violent, compared to what little and blank interaction Daisuke had as of yet had with him; blank indeed.

"Too bad the mutt wasn't able to finish his arm off…" Krad mumbled to himself. "The fat thing ate so much a day we were surprised he couldn't finish that little twig of a man."

"I don't want to provoke two…deprivers of life…-" Daisuke evaded the ever-ghastly m-word. "-but hell, this is prison. What'd'you kill him for?"

Krad sat up in bed (luckily, the bunks were a good vertical distance away from each other, so he could do this without injuring his head) and stared intensely at Daisuke, his ochre eyes ablaze with the gravity of his seriousness. "You want to know why we killed that cruel, useless bastard?"

"…That'd be nice," Daisuke shrugged, trying to avert his eyes from Krad's fiery gaze.

"I lived with a man named Hiwatari Kei. He was a rich, selfish, sick pervert. All high and mighty in his giant mansion, he'd force Satoshi, his stepson, and I to do hot, kinky things in bed." Krad glanced up at the underside of the top bunk and added as an afterthought, "…Of course, he had no idea that these hot kinky things were happening…and he wasn't the least bit of a sick pervert… …But that's beside my point," he concluded apathetically.

"Father-" Satoshi spat out the disgust-laced title coldly. "-then found out and did not approve of our relationship. And because I was only seventeen at the time, he threatened to turn Krad into the authorities for having an unlawful relationship with a minor." The blunette rolled his eyes. "I loved Krad way more than I'd ever give a damn about him, so I chose Krad. I chose to kill _father_." Again, the word was spat out with little endearment and a tenfold of contempt. "There was no other option."

Daisuke was lost for words. "Uh…" He blinked. "Wouldn't it have been easier to talk it out with him? Or to sneak around behind his back?"

Satoshi regarded this suggestion contemplatively. "The thought slipped my mind," he finally replied, his empty voice and guileless response making Daisuke's face fault.

"So, Red, what're you in?" Krad questioned, cocking his head back, not at all looking like the cold murderer he was supposed to be.

"Well, I-"

Daisuke froze once again, but this time, it wasn't from the shock of a blunt answer, or the arrival of yet another convict. No. This time, it was because little alarms had gone off in his head, alerting him of the awakening of the purple-haired man.

And what exactly caused these alarms? Why, the purple-haired prisoner himself, of course!

Or, to be more specific, the _hand_ of the perverted prisoner – the hand that was currently _resting on_ and contentedly _groping_ Daisuke's rear.

In a flurry of graceful shifting over the rumpled sheets of the bed, Daisuke found a warm body pressed against his side, the cursed palm still petting his backside. A pair of purring lips hovered over the shell of his ear, making him shiver at the lack of personal space. "D'you want to know why _I'm_ in here?" the man whispered huskily, his breath tickling Daisuke's skin. He gave no time to reply and promptly answered in the same low, guttural tone: "For being a _sexual predator_."

Daisuke blinked and it took him a good ten seconds to register the statement that had just been ghosted into his ear. The alarms paused their melodies, paused their shrieks of bloody murder, and his thoughts were isolated long enough for his brain to choreograph and carry out a great escape from the pervert's clutches. He hurriedly scrambled away from the cocky-faced man, away from his 'friendly' hand, and scooted up the expanse of the bed until his back pressed against the metal bars of the headboard. "You're a _what_?" he screeched, making sure this exclamation was loud enough to hear over the ringing in his head. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?"

The man hauled himself up and crossed his legs beneath him. "Hey," he replied coolly, "the kid was only five years younger than me. Besides-" A lecherous grin was then fixed upon his lips and he leered mischievously in response to the appalled expression on Daisuke's face. "-he wanted it as much as I did."

"H...he...?" Daisuke stuttered quietly, tugging at his collar nervously.

"He," the smirking man confirmed boldly.

And accordingly, Daisuke was scared shitless.

"Hey, Dark, I said to stop terrorizing the new guy," Krad interjected lazily.

"He's just pulling your leg, you know," Satoshi informed the anxious redhead, brushing a lock of silver-blue hair from his eyes. "He's not really a sexual predator." The bi-spectacled man paused and glanced up at the ceiling in consideration. "Well, not that I know of, anyway…"

"That hurts, creepy boy," the heliotrope-eyed man sighed dramatically. "Hurts right here." He somberly placed his palm over his heart and nodded empathically.

Satoshi growled lowly and muttered something almost inaudible, although along the lines of, "Creepy, am I?"

Krad slipped his arms around Satoshi's thin shoulders in a loving matter. "Not creepy, Sato-san," he corrected. "Just sexy."

That seemed to make Satoshi a fraction of an emotion happier, and he leaned further into Krad's arms, sinking into the side of the mattress.

The nameless man rolled his eyes, flipping his head slightly as he ran his hand through his hair. "Well maybe I'm _not_ a sexual predator." He smirked widely. "But take out the word 'predator' and you've got me, alright." And a unsettling – at least in Daisuke's eyes – waggling of his lavender eyebrows soon followed the smirk.

"…" Krad stared at the man expressionlessly. "…Dark?"

"Yes?" the man named 'Dark' answered in a too-cheerful-for-jail kind of voice.

"Shut up and make your introductions."

The violet-eyes man grumbled inaudibly and sighed. "Fine, fine, Kraddy. Don't be such a pussy." He held out his hand and grinned at Daisuke. "Hi."

Daisuke considered the hand held out before him thoughtfully. What if the hand tried to eat him? Worse yet: what if the hand tried to _touch_ him…again? Oh no! Must…escape…wrath…of…hand… Better yet, must _destroy_ hand. The redhead giggled at the idea, but had to discard it without delay. The only way to destroy the hand was to bite it off. He would not do that, fearing that Dark would take it as a horribly kinky invitation, or that he would return the favor. Daisuke wanted neither. So instead, he continued to stare at the hand vacantly.

"Leave me hanging, why don't you, ochibi," Dark chortled jokingly, pulling his outstretched arm back to himself and running his hand through his hair. **-1-** "Well, you can't have everything in life. Hn… But then again, maybe _you_ can't – butI can." Suddenly, he hopped off the bed and struck a dramatic pose. "Allow me to introduce myself!" He beamed widely, still in his theatrical little pose. "I am the Mousy Dark, one man among many with the best hair and sense of style. You may know me by one other name, however, for I am a stealer of hearts and self-acclaimed sex ninja extraordinaire. I am…" He tossed his head with flourish, never abandoning his striking pose. "The Phantom Thief Dark."

There was a moment of silence. Dark naturally assumed that the new resident of Cell 608 was just speechless with this news and was currently bubbling with the happiness of being groped by a famous kaitou. However, the phrase 'When you assume, you make an _ASS_ out of _U_ and _ME_' came to mind, and apparently, Dark was an ass.

In fact, the newest resident of Cell 608 was doing the exact opposite. Instead of happily gushing out squeals of eagerness and love, Daisuke blinked inquiringly. "…Who?" he grunted unceremoniously, inadvertently not noticing Dark's pose.

Dark wilted like a dead flower while Krad howled in laughter in the background. "You don't know who I am?" he pouted.

"Eh…" Daisuke had the decency to blush. "No?"

"How can you not know? How can _anyone_ not know?" Dark demanded. "I'm the great Phantom Thief Dark. I'm freakin' important, you stupid bastards!" He glared up at the stone ceiling and shook his fist, speaking more to the outside world than to Daisuke himself.

"Oh!" Realization dawned on Daisuke's face. "You're that famous thief –"

Dark grinned widely.

"– Kaitou Kid!" **-2-**

Then the grin flew off Dark's face, out the cell bars, and to Massachusetts.

"I'm not fucking Kaitou Kid!" Dark snarled, stamping his foot childishly. "I am the great Phantom Thief Dark. I'm special, damn it!" He sank to his knees and sulked. "Special, special, special…"

Krad reached over and patted Dark on the head. "There there, Dark. It'll be okay." He retracted his arm, and then added as an afterthought, "But then again, you _are_ getting pretty old… And it _is_ pretty easy to forget a person like you… But whatever. It'll be okay."

Dark sulked even more and crossed his arms with a mope. "Are you _sure_ you don't know me?" he grumbled sullenly. "_Phantom Thief Dark_. Ring any bells?"

Daisuke blinked and bit his bottom lip. "Uh…" He racked his brain for any information on a phantom thief, for any information on a man named Dark. Ironically, the only thought that came to mind was one that starred his best friend, Harada Riku. He remembered one very loud, very irritated speech she had shrieked to him regarding her ditzy airhead of a sister.

_"Risa is being such an IDIOT! I hate her! All night, every other night, she sits in front of the television and DROOLS. That is_ all _she does! I swear – she might as well have gone swimming with all that slobber collecting on her clothes. She's freakin' obsessed with him! With that criminal, that jerk! And he IS a criminal! A no-good thief, he is! Not only is he a crooked lawbreaker, but he's also a HUGE, STUPID, EGOTISTIC –"_

"Pervert!" Daisuke shouted excitedly, a triumphant smile gracing his features. "You're that thief-pervert!"

"…" Dark deadpanned.

"Uh… I mean… The Phantom Thief Dark! Of course I know you! Harada-san always used to watch your thefts on TV, and even dragged me and Riku-san to the museum you were robbing one night. …It's just that you've never shown your face to the public – you've always had that black mask on. I didn't recognize you at first."

Dark seemed to accept this excuse and considerably brightened up. "Yes! I am the ever great, ever elusive phantom thief of Azumano, Japan! I am Dark Mousy!" **-3-**

Innocently, Daisuke asked the one question that plagued his mind the moment he realized that the man before him was the infamous, un-catch-able thief of Azumano:

"If you're so great, why are you in jail?"

Dark looked a bit chagrined at the red-haired man's questioning of his pilfering skills and expressed this displeasure with a disgruntled scowl. "Maybe I wanted to go to jail. Ever thought of that?"

Daisuke merely arched a delicate scarlet eyebrow.

"Or maybe not…" Dark trailed off uncertainly and looked a bit morose, a look that did not suit his playboy features well. "Maybe I just wanted a break from thieving. Maybe I wanted to repent for my larcenous sins. Maybe I was tired of living a lie, of living behind a black mask. Maybe I turned myself in like a man, like a hero?" His head drooped and Daisuke felt compelled to pat the older-looking man on the back consolingly.

Suddenly, Satoshi snorted. This surprised Daisuke, who had dubbed the blue icicle as the silent, stoic kind of man; the kind of man who did not do strange, informal things such as fidgeting or breathing loudly, and nothing as strange and informal as snorting, of all things.

However, another snort escaped the blunette's nose – or mouth, or parallel universe, or wherever the hell a snort usually came from – and he muffled a snicker. "Don't pity him," Satoshi advised. "To celebrate a very successful raid one night, Dark decided that pulling an all-night barhopping marathon would prove to be entertaining. The next morning, he was found in Azumano's central park, half in, half out the fountain, with a soggy black mask still clutched in his hand. He was put on trial, tried to defend himself – 'tried' being the keyword – and was badly thwarted by the justice system and the one thing he lacked: intellect."

"Intellect isn't the only thing I lack," Dark snapped defensively. "Unlike you, I happen to lack creepiness!"

Satoshi glared, and Daisuke learned at that moment that the icicle of a man before him had a sore spot for Dark poking at his supposed 'creepiness'. However, Krad seemed to be a healing remedy for the soreness, and the moment his strong arms curled around Satoshi's slender frame, the blunette melted contentedly.

Dark sighed in defeat. "So maybe I did get caught the sucker's way, but so what? I'm still great, and super, and awesome, and sexy!"

Krad sighed into Satoshi's crystalline hair, inaudibly mumbling something about conceited, ill-bred idiots.

"Oy, so ochibi, tell us about yourself. Why's such a virgin flower like yourself –"

"I'm not a virgin flower!"

"– locked up in the big house?"

Daisuke fidgeted offhandedly and twiddled his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye, he vaguely saw the intrigued forms of Krad and Satoshi lean forward a bit in curious anticipation. "I was framed for murder…" he mumbled quietly. "An acquaintance of mine – neither a friend nor a stranger – killed his best friend Elliot over a girl. Kyle was jealous of Elliot and Freedert's relationship and went psycho on Elliot's ass the night I happened to stop by for a visit. Freedert was there, and went up on the witness stand, trying to vouch for me, but Kyle was practically a criminal mastermind; he had everything figured out – an alibi, a whole bunch of incriminating evidence, and all that DNA crap. He got off and I got thrown in jail."

"You got framed? What a loser way to go down," Dark remarked.

Daisuke blew a crimson lock of hair out of his left eye and arched a cynical eyebrow in Dark's direction. "And being found passed out and half-drowned in the park fountain due to intoxication isn't?"

"Of course not," was the blithe response, a feint of obliviousness to the false charade of his statement.

"I was sentenced to five years in prison and a lifetime of probation. I guess I'm pretty lucky to get out of here at the age of 24."

Dark raised his right hand and ticked down all five fingers. "23, 22, 21, 20…19. No wonder you're such a chibi, ochibi. You're only nineteen."

Daisuke blew a raspberry at Dark. "Beats looking 35."

Dark made a loud, indignant screeching noise from the back of his throat. "I do not look 35. I'll have you know that I'm only two years older than you. Besides, at least I don't look fourteen." He waggled his eyebrows pointedly in reference to Daisuke's slightly stunted stature and large rouge-colored eyes.

Daisuke growled quietly.

"Aw, how cute, it can growl! …That's pretty hot."

Daisuke blushed and balled his hands into fists. "No it's not!" he snapped defensively.

Dark chuckled to himself softly. "A hot nineteen-year-old with the body of an innocent little fourteen-year-old. Now that's pretty kinky… That pretty much makes you the perfect uke, doesn't it?"

Daisuke's carnelian eyes widened to the size of saucers before narrowing dangerously. "What did you just call me?" His fists shook slightly.

"Uke!" Dark replied cheerfully.

"You want to repeat that?" Daisuke barked, inwardly knowing that this pathetic attempt at toughness was sadly laughable.

"Uke uke uke uke uke uke UKE," Dark countered mockingly.

With a loud battle cry (although it was more of a loud squeak), Daisuke scrambled off the bed and attempted to throw himself at Dark's stupid figure. However, before the vehement redhead could do the deed, Satoshi calmly stood up and grabbed him in a protective hold. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he whispered, a slight smirk growing on his lips. "Who knows _what_ he'd do to you if you both ended up the floor together."

Daisuke froze and stopped struggling. "Geh… Right…" He wilted into Satoshi's grasp and shot Dark a dirty look. "Stupid old man."

Dark stuck out his tongue, then proceeded to lick his lips with said muscle. "Cute little uke."

------

**1:** Gah! Love this word. xD Especially when Eiji from Tennis no Oujisama says it to Echizen. The nickname might stick; it might not. I'm not sure yet. By the way, ochibi means kiddo. It's like chibi, which means kid or small person, except with an 'o.' xD

**2:** Kaitou Kid is the main character of the Magic Kaito manga series (discontinued D:), and sometimes he joins the cast of Detective Conan as a minor character and surprisingly friendly antagonist. He's a magician, plus a thief of disguise, much like Dark. However, Dark is hotter. n.n

**3:** Dark Mousy sounds better than Mousy Dark. Dark Mousy has this dramatic ring to it – Mousy Dark sounds like we're trying to describe Dark as a mousy person… Therefore, for dramatic flare, he shall call himself Dark Mousy.

**Killah:** I have released a horrible monster into the virtual world, my friends, and this monster goes by the elegant name of Dark Mousy. /insert terrified screams and lovesick sighs and obsessive swoons/ Run for the hills, for the pervert has been let loose upon the land!

So according to AbyxtOfLoki, it is now time for Daisuke to defend his back end! xD That comment was truly priceless, AOL-sama. n.n Anyway, thanks again for all the reviews, and **I hope you do so again**.

Reviews mean updates. xD Fear my review whoring-ness. xD


	3. Enter Tattoo Fetishes

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, language, and Daisuke-pain.

I thank you, my reviewers, for your wonderful reviews, and I'm glad that you like where my story is going so far. Hopefully, I won't screw it up… xD Oh, and to TheeBycth, an uke is a yaoi term used to describe the more submissive one in a shounen-ai relationship; the uke is usually on the bottom, if you know what I mean. /lecherous wink/

------

Two hours later found Daisuke hovering precariously between the adjoined cellblocks and the mess hall. Dare he enter the place where the remaining masses of cold-blooded convicts roamed? What if they were raucous? What if they were violent? Worst of all…what if they were _perverts_?

Daisuke nearly eeped. The mental image of hundreds of identical Darks sitting, and eating, and being lewd appeared in his mind. One Dark was enough, but…more?

"Hey, Dai-chan." Well, speak of the devil… "Whaddaya doing, just standing here? If you don't get a move on, you'll be last in line." Dark's tanned hand descended upon Daisuke's shoulder, gripping the black clad flesh and steering the redhead's yielding body in through the entrance of the refectory.

"Well…uh…" Daisuke didn't want to tell Dark that he was afraid of evil, murderous convicts who would most likely try to feel him up. "I was…waiting for you!"

Dark ushered Daisuke in the slowly moving cafeteria line and cheered happily. "You were waiting for me? Oh, it's just like we're in love! …But without the hot, passionate sex – just yet, anyway." He raised his eyebrows twice in speedy succession and winked alluringly.

"Dark…" Daisuke's eyes narrowed as he scowled.

"Disgruntled much, Dai-chan? Is it because you _want_ the hot rabid monkey sex?"

Daisuke would have banged his head against something hard had the closest hard thing not been the glass separating him from the food. Instead, he opted to politely turn his gaze away from the contently smirking Dark and direct toward the task at hand: eating.

The food-collecting area was not unlike that of an American high school's. Several piles of red trays were stacked neatly off to the side, and to the left of them was a long row of food – if you could call it that.

What the prison officials obviously thought was an array of edible foods was quite the opposite. Large tubs and pots of steaming, chunky liquids (or watery solids?) lined up like army men before a sergeant, and even farther left were the retarded soldiers (also known as scattered chunks of stale-looking bread upon a grimy pan). Beside the bread station was a collective selection of drinks, ranging from bottles of mineral water to bottles of pop to cans of Ponta. With their bright, cheerful colors and familiar, popular brands, they seemed to be the only edible things in the entire room (save human flesh, for even that seemed more edible than the 'food' in the tubs).

Daisuke resisted the urge to poke the substance-filled tubs (the sneeze glass would have stopped him, anyway), instead taking a tray into his hands and sliding it over the counter. He trailed behind Dark, carefully watching the older man's face. The thief then grinned brightly at the cafeteria worker – who, to Daisuke's surprise, had a gun strapped to her apron – and pointed to a pot of simmering green…soup? …tea? …grass? The woman nodded gruffly and ladled a bubbling spoonful onto his plate before shooing him away with her serving spoon. Accordingly, the convict in front of Dark was then attacked with several dollops of the green stuff.

Daisuke nervously pointed to the same thing Dark had gotten, hoping that the plum-locked man's tastes in food weren't as insane as he was.

Whilst leaving the line of doom, Daisuke turned with his tray and spotted Krad and Satoshi sitting quietly at a rickety steel table, neither of the two looking at, let alone eating, their food, which were the respective colors of dark brown and mustard yellow. Dark soon approached them, sitting on the bench opposite to the happy couple and waving indicatively at Daisuke to join them.

The redhead quickly scanned the entire room, meeting the stares of hundreds of gruff, callous faces, and decided that the loud pervert and make-out-happy duo he had already met seemed more inviting than the rest of the lot. He made his way over to Krad, Satoshi, and Dark and – reluctantly – sat next to Dark.

Daisuke suspiciously poked the bubbling green slush with his blunt plastic fork and pulled a face. "Is this for _eating_, or _suicide_?" he inquired interestedly. He attempted to put in one last poke, but something incredibly odd happened.

Out of nowhere, a blur of blue and white zipped past their table, bringing with it several napkins and straw wrappers and leaving them to drift slowly to the ground. Daisuke looked down and realized that those little pieces of paper weren't the only things that had been taken away. To his surprise, his brick red tray had disappeared – along with Krad's, Satoshi's, and Dark's – and in its place was a teal-green one. He swiveled his neck around several times, trying to locate the tornado that had stolen his 'supposedly' edible arsenic, but saw nothing out of place.

"Uh…guys…? What just happened here?" Daisuke motioned to his new tray, noting that none of his companions had been at all surprised by the mysterious disappearance of their food.

"Towa-chan," was the placid response from all three men.

_Well gee, that sure helped,_ Daisuke mused sarcastically. "Who's Towa-chan?"

The instant the honorary left his lips, the strange, spinning blur returned with a vengeance. Daisuke watched in fascination as food promptly began to appear on each of his cellmates' empty trays: for Satoshi, the odd combination of a slice of bread and a bowl of miso soup; for Krad, a plate of onigiri wrapped in nori and filled with umeboshi; and for Dark, a Shidashi bento packed with rice and tempura, but lacking the customary serving of pickled vegetables.

Daisuke's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Whoa! Where did those come from?"

"Towa-chan."

Daisuke nearly popped a blood vessel. "_Who_ is Towa-chan?"

"Towa-chan desu!" someone behind Daisuke screamed cheerfully, and thin arms wrapped themselves around his neck.

The surprised redhead started, shook the arms off his shoulders, and whirled around madly. "What the –" Once fully turned, Daisuke got a good look at the person his cohort of convicts called Towa-chan.

Despite the fact that she looked to be in her late twenties, Towa was attired in cutesy gothic lolita garb. -**1-** She wore a French maid-like outfit whose color was a mix of navy blue and plum. The mid-thigh-length skirt and its frilly hem sprung out, as though supported by a hidden crinoline, and a light pink apron with lacy edges covered its front. Along the vertical expanse of her stomach – above the skirt's garter and just under her bust – was a tightly tied white corset, its strings crisscrossed neatly and tied in a pretty bow. Over her long legs were tall, white stockings with ruffled tops that went over her knees, and adorning her slim wrists were frilly blue and white cuffs. Her top consisted of a high-collared blouse with short, wing-shaped sleeves and a single diamond of cloth cut away just below the base of her neck, revealing a patch of pale, unblemished skin.

"You are _so cute_!" the woman giggled. Her cropped silver-gray hair shined in the florescent prison lighting, and she brushed a lock of the neat steel mass from her glittering green eyes.

Daisuke fumed. He wasn't _cute_. He was a _man_. Men weren't cute.

"Look at him!" Towa squealed. "He's pouting!"

"I'm not pouting!" Daisuke said defensively, his face quickly gaining an outraged facet.

"Towa-chan," Dark cut in, turning around and placing his hands on his hips in a stern manner. "Don't tease Daisuke, please."

"_Thanks,_ Dark –"

"As his lover, only _I_ may tease Dai-chan and his adorable pouting."

"WHAT?"

Towa nodded elatedly, teetering forward a little to express her eagerness. "I understand, Dark! I am glad you've found yourself a little boyfriend. I bet you felt lonely with Krad and Satoshi making out all the time."

"Well not really…" Dark hinted slyly. "Sometimes I'd join them." He waggled his eyebrows and Satoshi looked up from his soup coldly.

"What did you say, Dark?" the blunette snarled.

"Uh…"

Krad abandoned his onigiri for a moment and joined in the let's-glare-at-Dark marathon.

"What did you say?" Satoshi repeated calmly.

"…" Dark flinched nervously and looked up at Towa like a kicked puppy. "Yeah. I was lonely…"

Krad and Satoshi simultaneously lowered their heads and continued to nurse their dinners.

"Well that's lovely," Towa commented. She turned to Daisuke and patted his mass of ruby hair like a mother would her child. "So how are you liking Dark?"

"I'm not," Daisuke immediately answered. "He's a pervert, he thinks he likes me, he won't quit bothering me, and he copped a feel earlier. I hate him, and the moment I get out of prison, I'm gonna sue him for rape and lock him in jail for life."

"It's only rape if the victim says no…" Dark whispered, placing an unoccupied palm over Daisuke's thigh.

"And I say no, you pervert!" was the abrupt reply. Daisuke shoved the offending hand off his flesh and growled.

Towa squealed. "Oh, Dark, you picked a feisty one! What's his name again?"

"Daisuke," Dark replied proudly. If Daisuke were a cat, the purple-eyed man probably would have been holding him up by the chest and pressing him into Towa's cheerful face.

"Dai-chan! That's perfect for him. And look – look at his eyes! They're _enormous_! Dark," Towa giggled excitedly, "he's the perfect uke!"

"Uke," he repeated disbelievingly. "Uke." Daisuke couldn't even muster up the energy to blow up. Instead, he seethed silently, slumping over in a brooding manner and glaring at his empty tray.

Dark laughed like the evil mastermind he was. "That's what I told him, Towa-chan. Oh, God, I can just see it now." He stared up into space, mouth open slightly. "Him under me, writhing in ecstasy and pure pleasure. My tongue working wonders, his hands making me hot and bothered, my ministrations bringing him closer and closer to heaven, his screams of lust driving me on, until I seal the deal with a single kiss…and then pound into him and fuck the brains out that pretty little virgin head of his."

Daisuke looked up in time to see a bit of drool begin to froth at Dark's lower lip. The cherry-haired man's face had sprouted a blush the unhealthy shade of burgundy, and his normally large eyes were even wider now in outrage and disgust. "Dark!" he all but roared. "You're gonna talk about _that_ right in front of me, as if I'm not even here?"

"It turns you on, don't it?" Dark purred surreptitiously.

"NO!"

Towa tittered to herself. "You're such a cute couple!" she commented.

"We're not a couple! …You psycho voyeur." Daisuke said the last part inaudibly to himself.

"We're a _sexy_ couple," Dark corrected. "Uke of our sexy couple," he announced loudly, "let me feed you." He pulled out a pair of trusty wooden chopsticks from his bento and speared a shrimp tempura. "Open up."

Daisuke pursed his lips. "I'm not letting you feed me. Who knows what you'll try to stick down my throat."

Dark lowered the chopsticks. "I have a pretty good idea." The enticing smirk returned on his face. "And I'll scream your sweet name as you suck on it…" And he casually popped the breaded head of the tempura into his mouth.

Daisuke was about to open his mouth and voice his revulsion when a plate of steaming hot okonomiyaki fell upon his tray. "What the –?" He turned around to see Towa's smiling face. "Octopus okonomiyaki? How did you know?"

Towa's grin never faltered; in fact, it seemed to grow bigger. "Eat!" she insisted, ignoring his question and handing him a small metal spatula for cutting and a pair of wooden chopsticks for eating.

"Uh…thanks. Itadakimasu."

"So anyone off your list as of lately, Towa-chan?" Dark asked conversationally, pouring a little soy sauce over his rice.

"List?" Daisuke chimed in questioningly, one hand gripping the small metal spatula while the other had a hold of the chopsticks.

"Yeah, list," Krad supplied. He reached over and dipped an onigiri into Satoshi's bowl of soup. "Towa-chan has a list of beautiful men in her head. She feeds them all properly, so we as bishounen won't all die horrible deaths by means of food poisoning. If it weren't for Towa-chan and her bishounen list, we would be eating the lethal crap the prison serves. Satoshi." His tone grew commanding and he held the speared ball of rice up to Satoshi's lips. "You need to eat more."

Satoshi looked up sharply, making the lenses of his glasses shine completely white for a moment. "…" It wasn't quite an objection, but the tightening of his lips indicated that he did not want to eat more. 'Cause hey! – he finished his bread slice and a little more than half the bowl of soup. Woooooowwwww.

"C'mon Satoshi…" Krad rumbled lowly, eyes becoming half-lidded. "After dinner, you just might get a special _dessert_…"

Satoshi's eyes widened at the implication and he glanced hurriedly at the onigiri. Slowly, he cocked his head forward, opened his lips, and took a lean bite of the cold rice.

Krad smirked devilishly and nuzzled the blue-eyed man's neck, gently running his tongue over the pale skin as Satoshi swallowed slowly. Despite his insinuation, it seemed Krad wanted dessert _now_, instead of after dinner

By this time, Daisuke was blushing to his roots, Towa was squealing excitedly and taking pictures with her digital camera (-flash- "I love my job!" -click-), and Dark was simply scarfing down his bento.

"So…" Daisuke looked away from the KradxSatoshi scene and gulped down a mouthful of sauce-slathered okonomiyaki. "Anyone off this 'list' of yours?" He obviously wanted to direct everyone's attention away from the…busy couple.

"Argen-kun is getting on my nerves a bit, but no, no one yet." Towa shook her head.

"Who's on your list?" Daisuke asked, genuinely curious.

Dark motioned about the room, where a majority of the prisoners had plates of bubbling sludge. "Not many people, that's for sure," he informed his pseudo-lover. "I mean, you're lucky to be on Towa-chan's list in a single day. It took me a week to get on it, and it took Krad two! …Somehow, creepy boy over there got on it in two days…"

Towa looked slightly ruffled as she smacked the notorious thief upside the head. "Do not insult Satoshi. He is the ice prince, and he is incredibly sexy."

"Yeah." Krad broke away from Satoshi's mouth long enough to grunt, "Sexy as hell." He crushed their lips back together while Satoshi's hands fisted his golden hair insistently.

"Hey, hey!" Towa whacked Krad's head with a rolled up newspaper (where she got it, Daisuke would never know). "No depriving Satoshi of his food. You said it yourself: he needs to eat more."

Krad and Satoshi looked up at the fussing woman blankly, their eyes slightly fogged. Krad had his mouth open.

"EAT!"

"Yes ma'am," the two mumbled, shrinking and returning to their food distractedly.

"Ah…" Towa sighed. "Young, horny love."

Daisuke sliced a triangle of fried, octopus-and-sauce-topped batter from his circle of okonomiyaki and lifted it to his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Well gee… If we get all this great food (Towa blushed at the compliment…because it was from such a cute, gorgeous, yaoi-licious bishounen!), don't the rest of the guys in here get jealous?"

"Of course they do!" The rolled-up newspaper made its valiant return. Towa smacked it against her opened palm in a threatening manner. "But if they _dare_ try to do anything to _my bishounen_, then they might get a little _something_ in their already crappy food."

The few men who had overheard Towa's threat all gulped loudly, making Daisuke sweatdrop nervously. "Uh… What _kind_ of 'something'?"

"Rat," Dark supplied shortly, waving his chopsticks around for emphasis. "A dead rat."

Daisuke blanched. "A dead rat, Towa-chan?"

The silver-haired woman nodded cheerfully. "Some bum tried to steal Funa-chan's ramen. Oh ho ho…" she chuckled malevolently, her cheerful bottle green eyes suddenly narrowing evilly. "And the next day, he _got_ his just desserts!"

Krad and Satoshi exchanged feral looks. "Dessert."

Daisuke spent the next quarter hour shoveling his dinner down his throat, averting his gaze and blushing profusely at his slowly diminishing okonomiyaki as the resident couple made out right before him.

Click. Flash.

Towa-chan took pictures.

And Dark wondered aloud why _they_ couldn't be like that, and tried to suck on Daisuke's neck.

…to which Daisuke threw his spatula at the phantom thief, wishing it were a fruit knife instead.

------

Daisuks's back arched slightly despite his dogged attempts to prevent himself from moving. "Oh…God…" he moaned.

He wanted it all to stop: the pain, the discomfort, the burning, the danger. But truth be told, he really didn't. Or maybe he did… In fact, he wasn't quite sure what he wanted. He hurt so badly in that one spot (thank God he wasn't bleeding) and he had half the mind to push Dark off him…but a part of him really wanted it. Prison was changing him at an amazingly fast rate. To do such a risky, spontaneous thing with Dark…that was _not_ Daisuke-like.

He didn't quite know why he had allowed Dark to do this to him, really. His skin was blazing with a fire earlier ignited, and he was uncomfortable; he was in so much pain. And yet…he felt an odd sense of satisfaction.

Dark's left hand pressed against the front of the redhead's neck, causing him to stiffen. "You can move, too, you know…" the older man informed him quietly from behind. The hand trailed down the length of his back, and then returned northward to the expanse of his narrow shoulders.

Daisuke shuddered. "D-don't."

The plum-haired man barked in laughter. "Naa, naa, koibito – don't get your shirt up all in a twist."

"My shirt's already _off _– and don't call me that!"

Dark chuckled again. "Oh yes. It's quite _off_, isn't it?" The pads of his fingers drifted over slightly reddening skin and he shifted his legs, causing Daisuke to let out a painful cry.

"Ouch, _damn it_! Watch where you shove that thing!"

"Heheheh… Sorry Dai-chan," Dark sniggered. "Should I stop?"

"No!" Daisuke snapped. "I swear, if you pull out before we're finished, I will _shoot_ you."

"_Someone's_ being an eager beaver," Dark remarked laughingly.

"You shut up," Daisuke ordered.

"Tsk tsk…" Dark sighed. He pressed in harder and almost giggled at the pained scream that erupted from Daisuke's lips.

"Fucking _sadist_!" the poor victim shrieked.

"That's quite a vocabulary you have there, Dai-chan," Dark observed coolly.

"Only when I'm around you, you psycho – _damn it_, Dark, that's it! We're done!"

"Hm?" Dark look up from his task in feigned confusion. "What's this? You don't want your tattoo anymore?"

"No," Daisuke retorted caustically. "No I _don't_ want my tattoo anymore. Not when you're going wild on me with a flaming needle!"

"Ah-ah-ah." The veteran prisoner waggled his finger annoyingly. "It's not a needle, and it's certainly not flaming."

"Close enough," Daisuke snarled.

"Come on, Daisuke," Dark cajoled. "I've only got three more letters left, and then the inking. Two hours tops, I promise."

"No –"

"Two hours!"

"No –"

"I promise!"

"No –"

"You are the sexiest beast on earth."

"No –"

"LIES!" Dark bellowed dramatically.

Daisuke ran his right hand through his hair tiredly. "Fine, fine!" he snapped. "Keep going. Just hurry it up."

"Well we've wasted enough time squabbling. I'll have to reheat the needle now."

Daisuke froze. "R-Really?" he half-whimpered.

Dark chuckled and plucked his tattoo-making device from Daisuke's puckered skin, making the man below him cry out in pain. "Sorry, ochibi, but hey – look at the bright side: now you'll be bad ass."

Daisuke sighed and propped his head up with his fist. "That's _great_, really…"

Above him, Dark pulled out a lighter and busied himself with the tattoo-making process while Daisuke contemplated this obviously idiotic decision.

_Sated and content (or as content as anyone is prison could possibly be), Daisuke trooped backed to his cell after dinner, making sure to trail close after Dark so as not to lose his way. Somewhere along the way, Krad and the slightly full Satoshi had run off into a closet marked '_Cellblock Custodians for the Week: Fuji Syuusuke and Kirihara Akaya_,' Satoshi shouting something about 'cleaning duties' and the ever-contradictory Krad shouting something about 'dessert and super hot make out time with Satoshi.' _

_No one stopped them, so Daisuke supposed it was okay. The cell bars rolled to a close as he and Dark entered, enclosing them within its confines. _

_"So this is prison?" Daisuke asked conversationally, lying down on the bed closest to him. _

_Dark arched an eyebrow. "Why yes. What were you expecting?" _

_Daisuke shrugged and yawned. "Oh…I dunno, really. I expected you guys to be giant, middle-aged men with fetishes for scars and tattoos and stuff…" _

_"Who says I'm not?" _

_It was Daisuke's turn to arch an inquiring eyebrow. "Do you _look _like an old tub of lard covered with scars and tattoos? Didn't think so –" _

_The redhead was cut off when Dark turned around and pulled off his shirt. _

_"Dark, what are you doing?" Daisuke shouted. "Put your shirt back on!" _

_"No, look." Dark bent over a little and gathered his unruly hair into his fist. On his back, just above his shoulder blades, was a pair of black, angelic wings that curled a bit at the bottom. Down lower, just above the garter of his black plants, and in the dip of his back, was a single black feather. _

_"Wings?" Daisuke traced the left wing with amazement. _

_Dark groaned and shuddered slightly at the touch. "Yup." He turned to his side and showed Daisuke his left bicep, where an elegantly scribed word was sketched onto the smooth, tanned skin: _Kaitou. _The older man continued to model his many other tattoos – more on his arms, some on his stomach, a couple down his chest – much to Daisuke's incredulity, for he had not even noticed any of them on him earlier. Who knew that he _was _bunking with a tattoo-crazy convict? _

_"And look!" Dark hastily undid his belt and made quick work of his zipper, expertly pulling his pants down in half a second. _

_"Holy crap – Dark!" Daisuke scooted back a few feet on the bed, nearly hitting the concrete wall. "Put your pants back on!" _

_"But I want to show you my favorite tattoo." Dark's voice was innocently sweet, but there was a suspicious glimmer residing in his violet eyes. "…It's on my ass." So _that's _what the suspicious glimmer was all about… _

_"Good God, Dark, I don't want to see it!" _

_Dark scowled and grumbled something inaudibly, reluctantly pulling his pants back on over his white boxers. "Say…Dai-chan?" _

_"Don't call me that." _

_"Super sexy god of all ukes Daisuke-san?" _

_"…Dai-chan's fine." _

_"Splendid. Now, Dai-chan, how would _you_ like a tattoo of your own?" _

_Daisuke's mouth dropped open. "A tattoo? Me?" He paused for a moment of silence and frowned. "I don't think so, Dark. I've heard they're pretty painful… And I don't want anything permanent on my skin…" _

_"But Daisuke – this is prison. You can't leave prison without a memorabilia!" _

_"Oh, yeah," Daisuke replied sarcastically. "What better memorabilia than a self-inflicted scar covered in ink?" _

_"Exactly!" _

_"No, Dark." _

_"C'mon, Daisuke. I know how to make tattoos." _

_Daisuke gaped. "You do?" _

_"Yeah. By night, I was the great Phantom Thief Dark. By day, I was an assistant at a tattoo parlor."_

_"How convenient." Daisuke rolled his eyes. _

_"I don't have any professional stuff with me right now, but that won't stop me!" Dark went over to his footlocker and undid the lock, carefully pulling out a white bag. "Let me show you how I'll make your tattoo." _

_Dark opened up the bag and emptied its contents on the bed beside Daisuke's head. Out dropped several dozen silver paper clips, small, food-coloring sized bottles of permanent ink, and a cigarette lighter. _

_Daisuke sat up and grasped the lighter. "This is prison. How are you allowed to have this?" _

_Dark raised his eyebrows secretively. "I have my ways," he replied fluidly. _

_Daisuke thought about his prison movies. Certainly, Dark couldn't have smuggled this in through his internal system, could he? Because if this was the case, then that would mean that it came out of – _

_"Augh!" Daisuke dropped the lighter awkwardly and it bounced off the white sheets innocently. _

_"Relax," Dark cooed, an amused smile gracing his features. "It's not how you think it is. I stole it from old Yayoi." _

_Daisuke breathed a sigh of relief. _

_"Now this is how the process works." Dark picked up one paper clip and tugged on it haphazardly so that it was no longer in its clip form and instead stretched out. "I get my makeshift needle, and..." He picked up the lighter with his free hand and clicked it on, releasing a tongue of bright, flickering fire. Holding the tip of the bent clip up to the fire, he paused for about three minutes, calmly watching the procedure with a serious eye. _

_"When it's hot enough…" All of a sudden, he stopped talking, and in a fast movement of his hand, the inverted paper clip somehow found its way from the fire to half a centimeter away from the flesh in between Daisuke's eyes. "The fun begins." _

_Daisuke's froze, his eyes the size of tennis balls. "Uh…" He stared cross-eyed at the pointed tip of the clip, feeling a slight heat radiate from it. "Now I really don't want one." _

_Dark continued on, as though he hadn't heard Daisuke's objection. "After it's properly heated, the paper clip/needle is then inserted into a clean, flat area of flesh – not too deep, though, mind you – scraped along the skin enough to leave a lasting mark, inked with an assortment of permanent inks, and _BAM_! A handmade tattoo is born." _**-2- **

_Daisuke looked rather pale. "You want to cut me," he said mildly, just to make sure he understood what he was hearing. _

_"Partially." _

_"But you still want to cut me." _

_"…Yes." _

_"Oh." Daisuke seemed to consider this. "…No friggin' way." _

_"Hey, come on. I'll make you something cool!" Dark coaxed. "…Something like your prison number. You can show all your family and friends that you went to prison, and have the tattoos to prove it!" _

_"Wow…" Daisuke trailed off in faux amazement. Then, his face fell abruptly and it was clear that he was unimpressed. "_No_." _

_After about half an hour of coaxing, reassurances, flattery, and bribery ("You'll be bad ass!" "It won't hurt _that _badly." "You'll look just _stunning_, really, I promise." "If you let me, I'll also give you sex! C'mon, Dai! It's a win-win situation."), Daisuke finally caved. _

_"Fine." _

_One minute later, of course, Daisuke spent another ten minutes trying to convince the older man that he only wanted the _tattoo_, not the sex. _

And that was where Daisuke found himself: lying belly-down on his sexual cellmate's bed with said cellmate straddling his ass, wielding a flaming needle, and carving said needle into his back.

"Done!" Dark pulled the paper clip from Daisuke's skin once again, expelling another painful cry from his charge.

"Oh thank God…" Daisuke muttered, beginning to get up.

"But no." Dark pushed Daisuke's head down with an unoccupied hand and blotted the open gashes with a wet towel. "I've gotta ink them now."

Daisuke nearly screamed out in frustration.

"And it's gonna hurt, too."

"…Damn it."

------

"Done!" Dark finally said…again.

"Are you _sure_ this time?" Daisuke snapped. The ink seemed to be floating over his cuts, and the ticklish feeling just made him want to wipe all the stuff off.

"Yeah, I'm done."

"Good." Daisuke slipped out from under Dark's body and stretched, glad that the pain had trickled down to an almost numb sensation.

Dark followed suit and stood behind Daisuke, contemplating his work. "I like it," he remarked. "Don't forget to show all your buddies when you get out of here."

"Why would they want to see my prison number?"

Dark arched a mysterious eyebrow. "Who said I tattooed your prison number?"

Daisuke froze. "…What?"

"I said, 'something _like_ your prison number,' but not _necessarily_ your prison number. I put something much cooler."

Daisuke was mortified. Already, the many possibilities of things Dark could have written on him ran through his head.

_Sexy uke. _

_Can't touch this. _

_I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it. _

_Don't eat moldy cheese._

_'Nooooooooooooooooo!'_ Daisuke mentally wept. "Dark!" he shouted. "What did you write? What's on my back?"

"Well… If you're lucky… Me." Dark smirked and closed in on Daisuke, enveloping him within a hug from behind, careful to avoid the still wet ink of his tattoo.

"Dark!" Daisuke wailed, breaking loose from Dark's embrace. "Really! What's on me?"

Dark's smirk grew. "Sexiness."

"ARRGGGHHHH."

"Well…" There was a moment's pause; then… "Night, Dai-chan!" Dark clambered back onto his earlier occupied bottom bunk and pulled the ivory sheets over his head.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" demanded Daisuke. "You spend nearly three hours carving nonsense into my back and _another two_ covering the cuts with ink, and all you can say is 'Night, Dai-chan'?"

"Oh…" came Dark's muffled voice. "And don't sleep for a while, either. Give the ink time to dry." He rolled over, back facing Daisuke, and grew silent once more.

"Dark? Dark!"

From the sound of a drowsy gurgle, Daisuke realized that Dark had fallen asleep.

"Are you _serious_, Dark? _Serious?_ No one can fall asleep that fast! Damn it!" The disgruntled redhead pulled at his hair irately. "Now what the heck does this thing _say_?" He raked one hand through his abused hair and tried to twist his neck around to look at his new 'tattoo'; sadly, he couldn't quite make it. "Gah…" Giving up after three minutes of these futile attempts, Daisuke realized that there was a full-length mirror beside the urinal. Of course! He could use that.

Daisuke gaited toward the mirror, turned his back on it, and twisted his neck at an almost painful angle to gaze at the back of his shoulder.

Upon seeing the scratchy-looking text in black, red, and purple ink, Daisuke's blood boiled. Although the mirror had reversed the writing, he could easily decipher it. Several chicken scratch words littered his left shoulder, and his smoldering scarlet eyes narrowed angrily.

Krad and Satoshi – both suspiciously ruffled and disheveled looking – reentered the cell just in time to hear their newest cellmate scream:

"Dark, _you are a stupid fucker_!"

With an arched eyebrow, the blonde man approached the fuming redhead and peeked at his shoulder. He immediately looked away in order to hide the silly grin that had sprouted on his face. Permanently etched into Daisuke's normally smooth, flawless skin were four simple words:

**I –heart– _Dark Mousy _**

------

**1:** Gothic lolita is a gothic type of lolita fashion more commonly worn by teens (which is why it's unusual for someone of Towa-chan's age to wear it). Lolita is often referred to as a sexual term, but it's more cutesy than sexual. Match cutesy with gothic and you get black – and sometimes white – lacy, ribbon-infested dresses and skirts. Towa-chan's attire is super cutesy, really, especially since she's in a maid outfit. XD

**2: **My classmate, **_Adan_**, actually did this (without his parents knowing, of course). He held the tip of a stretched out paper clip over a candle, waited until it was hot enough, and then carved **_HIM's heartagram_** into his left bicep. /flinch/ Aggh… That musta hurt like hell… And he _said_ it hurt like hell, too. xD The only difference is that he didn't ink the cut, because if it got infected, he'd have to tell his parents that he had carved a band symbol into his flesh. x.O So…thanks to Adan, poor Dai-chan has to suffer this pain. XD His is kinda fading, but since Dark inked the marks, Dai's'll be permanent – I think.

**Killah:** Heheh… Well did I trick you during the tattoo scene? Did you think that Daisuke fell for Dark's seductions and agreed to boink with him? …Well you were wrong! BWUHAHAHAHA!!! Hey, I can't make Dark happy just three chapters into this story, now can I? And I'm sure Dai can hang in there longer than half a day!

O.O I can't write KradxSatoshi at all. X.x But I love poking fun at Satoshi's unwillingness to eat. I like to think of him as the two girls I sit next to, who are both twigs. --;; In fact, I call them twigs. …Damn twigs… I mean, they eat and all, but they STAY TWIGS. Damn them. T-T /sob/ Me and Adan envy them and their twiggyness…

Longest chapter yet! n.n Ain't ya gonna thank me by **reviewing**? ./sweetly holds out a cute bunny/ …Because if you don't, I'll release this defenseless bunny into the dangerous park, just like I did with my own four bunnies three or four years ago… /whistles innocently/


	4. Enter Prison Leather

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, and language.

Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews! I'm glad you liked my Towa descriptions. xD ./glomps readers/ Since my reviewers are so lovely, this chapter shall contain bishounen clad in prison leather – the best kind out there!

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Daisuke bustled about the cell hurriedly, his hair untamed and his head practically askew. He shuffled through his footlocker haphazardly, throwing unneeded things out at random and coating the stone floors with his belongings. "Where are my pants?" he cried out in frustration. He gripped and tossed out a shiny black…thing…he didn't even remember owning and continued to rummage.

Sometime around 3 o'clock in the morning, Daisuke had fallen asleep leaning against the wall. When he awoke at 7:03 am, he was tucked into his bed and…pantsless.

Needless to say, Daisuke panicked and went on a hunt for his lost articles of clothing. However, when he had checked his footlocker, he had found that even his extra two sets of black pants had gone missing. He had several white t-shirts, a couple of white wife beaters, and a pair of black over-shirts – no pants in the bunch. Thus, Daisuke's frenzied search for his trousers had begun.

"Hmmmm…"

Daisuke looked up from his trunk and was immediately assaulted with the image of Dark's groggy face peering over the low headboard. The older man's violet hair stuck out in all directions, and his eyes were nearly glued shut with sleep. "Mmmmm."

"…Good morning, Dark."

"Why aren't you wearing clothes, Niwa?" Dark questioned drowsily. "Are we gonna do it?" He yawned and blinked unfocusedly. "Where's the lube?"

"Dark, you pervert," Daisuke reprimanded. "No. I just…lost all my pants." He quickly found a sleeveless white undershirt and slipped it over his head.

"Oh." Dark blinked again, and burrowed back into his covers. "That's all?" He shoved his tousle-haired head under his pillow and grunted, "Leather."

Daisuke, having no idea what this meant, ignored his cellmate and resumed his footlocker digging.

"Oy, Red." **-1- **

Daisuke looked up yet again, this time to see Krad gazing down at him from his top bunk.

"What are you looking for?"

"My pants," Daisuke replied frantically, feeling rather silly sitting there clad in only boxers and a wife beater. "I lost my pants."

Krad blinked just as Dark had and looked up in contemplation. "Oh. Maybe it's Towa-chan."

Daisuke abandoned his search and scratched his head vacantly. "Towa-chan?"

Krad ruffled his unruly blonde locks and sighed deeply "Yeah. She's been complaining for a while about the blandness of all her bishounen's garb. I guess she finally took charge and switched them herself."

"She's switching _prison uniforms_?" Daisuke stated incredulously. "Wow…that's pretty useless, trying to make us look nicer – I mean, seeing that this is _prison_ and all." Daisuke grabbed the shiny black…thing…he had thrown out earlier, preparing to stuff it back into his trunk.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Krad skidded down the ladder and reached out to pluck the object from Daisuke's grasp. He gave the object a quick look-over and smacked the sitting redhead upside the head. "Well this is why you can't find your pants: you're blind. You've got huge eyes – why don't you use them?" He tossed the item into Daisuke's befuddled face and rubbed all residue of sleep from his eyes as he turned away.

Daisuke grabbed the offending article off his face and stared at it. Dark's sleepily uttered word suddenly rang through his head, and he blanched. "Leather," he repeated.

Krad shuffled over to his own footlocker and sifted through it. Surely enough, a few seconds later, he emerged from his mound of belongings, clutching a pair of black leather pants similar to Daisuke's. "Great. These will look great on Satoshi…" He smirked to himself and fell into a Satoshi-and-leather-filled daydream.

However, Daisuke was less than pleased. He stared at the leather pants in horror. Not only were they made of _leather_, but they also seemed to be two sizes too small. He glared at them in disgust before tossing them away yet again.

"I refuse to wear them," Daisuke informed the air, and he set to work – with a disgruntled frown on his face, of course – cleaning up the mess he had made in his search for his ever-elusive pants, and making a loud racket as he did so. Messily shoving the last of his possessions back into his trunk, he remained on his knees and tried to flatten the mountainous heap down. With a grunt, he shoved it all in and pulled the lid down –

"Oh shit, Dark!"

Once the clang of metal against metal reached Daisuke's ears, he had looked up to see Dark staring right at him with drowsy purple eyes.

"Oh God, I swear, you'll kill me before I leave this place, Dark." Daisuke grabbed his chest and breathed in deeply. "First you carve a tattoo into my back and now you –" He paused, remembering just what exactly the tattoo had said. "Argh! The tattoo!" He climbed onto the chest and leaned over the low headboard so that he was face-to-face with Dark. "Dark, you're a huge _ASS_!" he shouted into the lavender-haired man's face. "I hate you! I don't heart you, you moron!"

Dark continued to stare at Daisuke, transfixed. Daisuke did not like that look. …Especially when Dark started to inch a little bit closer.

"Dark, what are you doing?" Their noses were almost touching. So close.

"You smell like strawberries," Dark whispered in response. With half-lidded eyes, he gazed at Daisuke in rapt fascination, tilting his neck to the side and approaching the redhead's lips.

"YYYAAAAAAAHHHHHH! PERVERT!" Daisuke, having no weapons of mass destruction at hand, haphazardly head-butted Dark and hastily scrambled off his footlocker to safety. "Don't touch me!"

Dark, who had lost the balance his elbows had been supporting, reeled back and held his forehead, hissing from the pain. "Ow, damn it. What happened to my head?" He shut his eyes tightly and opened them again, wildly blinking the sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing on the ground, Daisuke?" He had apparently forgotten the happenings that had taken place while he was half-asleep.

"You don't know?" Daisuke half-shrieked. "You tried to molest my mouth with yours!"

"Mouth…? Oh! Kiss?" Dark sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around his hips. "I tried to kiss you?" He grinned widely. "That's _great_! Did I succeed?" he asked eagerly.

"_NO_." Daisuke lifted himself up off the floor and dusted himself off, sighing weakly. "You…you… OH RIGHT!" For such a cutie, he sure did have a short attention span. However, the tattoo fiasco was in its rightful place back in his mind, and he was ready to bitch slap Dark for it. "You bastard! You branded me with _LIES_," he accused loudly, pointing a condemning finger straight at him. "Lies, I tell you – LIES!"

"I love you too, sweet-pea," Dark replied vaguely, ignoring Daisuke's vehemence. He yawned the last of his sleep away and rolled out of bed.

"Don't _'I love you too, sweet-pea,'_ me. I want you to undo it!"

"Undo a tattoo?" Dark grabbed his sheets and flipped them into the air, smoothening out the folds. He let out a bark of laughter at Daisuke's expense, letting the sheets billow down to the mattress at their own pace. "That's not possible. Well, not with what I have in my footlocker, anyway." He tilted his head to the side and blinked oddly at his misshapen covers. "Say, what's that bump in my bed?"

"Don't try to change the subject – eep." Daisuke had turned around, only to see Dark elatedly holding up a pair of leather pants: Daisuke's leather pants. "Where did you get those?"

"You must have thrown them at me while strip-teasing for my sleeping subconscious," Dark suggested, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't think so," Daisuke deadpanned blandly. He stepped forward and grabbed the pair of pants from Dark's grasp, staring at it in disgust, as though there were squashed cockroach guts splattered all over it. "Good God, what was Towa-chan thinking? I'll have to ask her to give me back my old pants."

"I suggest you don't," Dark advised, gliding over to his own footlocker and pulling out a similar pair of leather pants. "She doesn't like it when people turn down her gifts and ideas." He held them up to the light, studied them, and when they had been deemed worthy, he ably slipped them on. Daisuke would never admit it aloud, but the plum-eyed man didn't look half bad. "Its like PMS tenfold. She flips out like a mental patient. No. You'll have to make due with leather. But hey, cheer up. At least your not fat or anything, like Krad."

"I AM _NOT_ FAT YOU STUPID DICK," Krad interjected, and Dark blew him a raspberry.

Daisuke jumped. He had forgotten that Krad and Satoshi were there, actually… He turned around to face the happy couple. Satoshi and Krad wore the regulation button-up, short-sleeved, black shirts over white tees. They both happened to be clad in their new pairs of pants, and looking quite spiffy – well, that's what Daisuke's straight mind insisted he think anyway. In reality, they were sex on freakin' wheels with a side of drop dead gorgeous.

"Look, Dai-chan – we're all wearing them. You won't be alone." Dark placed his thumb on his chin contemplatively, plum eyes slowly wandering over Daisuke's lower body. "You've got the legs for 'em, anyhow. Just put them on!"

"NO. I _refuse_!" Daisuke repudiated.

Krad sighed. "Red, as much as I like attention, I don't want to be swamped with sex-crazed prisoners when they see a pantsless you walking around with us …"

Daisuke blanched.

"Yeah," Dark cut in, coming on to Krad's game. "All this leg your showing is bound to make a couple of them – myself included – want to jump that fine ass of yours…"

Daisuke hugged the leather pants to his chest in horror.

Both Krad and Dark looked over at Satoshi, waiting for him to put his two cents in. Satoshi merely blinked at them in response. "Put on your pants," was all he said.

Daisuke reluctantly scrambled into the wretched (in his opinion) pair of forbidden pants and straightened out his sleeveless tee. "God, I feel like a male hussy," he complained, inwardly wondering if he was allowed to wrap his sheets around him like a toga and bring them with him to breakfast. In his opinion, the pants (which didn't leave him much room to walk, or move, or fidget, or…breathe…) were at least two sizes too small.

Satoshi waved a constructive hand in Daisuke's general direction. "Nonsense. You look fine." He grabbed Daisuke's hand and pulled him out the newly opened cell doors. "Unlike Dark," he added contemptuously, taking a quick glance back to make sure he was still within the mentioned convict's earshot, "who looks like the biggest slut if there ever was one."

"Hey!" Dark cried huffily. "Do not!"

Satoshi gave a knowing smirk and trekked on, dragging Daisuke with him to the cafeteria for the hearty breakfast that was sure to be in store for them, courtesy of Towa-chan.

"Dai-chan, Sato-chan!" A squeal filled the air. Out of nowhere, the two young jailbirds were mauled and double-glomped in near oblivion. "O-_HAY-_OU!" Towa giggled and dragged them by the necks to their customary table. "How do you like your new pants?" she demanded, plopping them both into their seats.

"They're very nice, thank you," Satoshi said vaguely, eyeing the cafeteria threshold as a placid Krad and an eye-twitching Dark entered through it. "Krad looks especially sexy," he noted.

Daisuke arched an eyebrow. How…out of character – at least from what he had seen from the blunette already.

"And you, Daisuke?"

Krad and Dark seated themselves. "Daisuke's unhappy," the violet-eyed man stated boldly.

Towa slowly turned around to face the very nervous Daisuke. "What's this?" Unhappy?" she repeated, stressing each syllable meaningfully.

"Uh… Uh…" Daisuke searched his mind for an easy escape. "They're…uh…too tight!"

Towa regarded him with an intense scrutiny. "Stand up," she barked, and Daisuke could only comply. Her hawkish jade eyes wandered up and down the expanse of his legs and she tilted her head to the side a bit to further study him. After a minute of examining, she locked eyes with Daisuke. "What are you talking about? They're perfectly fine. If you ask me, they're a little _loose_. I oughta have gotten you a smaller size…"

_Are you blind, lady?_ "Uh – no!" Daisuke supplied quickly. "They're fine, now that I think about it." _Can't you see I'm losing an hour of my life for every minute I wear these oxygen-depriving pants?_

"Really, Daisuke. You look _perfect_," Dark purred.

Daisuke didn't like the lecherous smirk on Dark's lips… "Damn prison…" he mumbled under his breath.

"NIWA!"

Daisuke turned around madly, having heard his name echoing throughout the mess hall. He glanced over at the door, spotting Guard Saehara Takeshi there with his handy-dandy clipboard in hand. He hastily waved his arm up in the air, alerting the official of his presence.

"Ah – there you are." Takeshi ambled up to Daisuke, arching an inquiring eyebrow at his new pair of pants. He sighed in surrender ("Oh, all right then, I guess…") and glanced at his clipboard before searching the redhead's lower body.

Daisuke stared wide-eyed at the brunette, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. Takeshi's russet eyes trailed down his back…and stopped. "Saehara…" Takeshi returned Daisuke's gaze for a quick second before returning to his tightly clad rear. "If I'm not too out of line… Why the hell are you staring at my butt?"

Takeshi grinned sheepishly at the vehement Daisuke, spotting a jealous but chuckling Dark out of the corner of his eye. "…Your prison number's on it, is all," he replied smoothly, checking something on his clipboard.

"What?" Daisuke twirled around and twisted his neck in order to see his back. As revealed by Takeshi, the numbers '0082495'were ironed onto the back of his leather pants…right over his ass. "Damn it – Towa-chan!" Before he could further express his indignation, Takeshi cheerfully grabbed him by the shirt and led him out of the refectory.

"…gives me a reason to memorize Daisuke's prison number…" Dark's musing was the last thing Daisuke heard before he was half-pulled half-dragged out the door. Damn prison. Really.

------

Daisuke paced agitatedly around his cell, muttering incoherent things to himself. Footsteps approached from behind him, and a barely audible whirring filled his ears. He turned just in time to catch a sliced bagel out of the air before it hit him in the back of the head.

"You didn't eat," Dark explained frankly at his annoyed albeit quizzical stare.

"Oh." Daisuke sent his violet-haired cellmate a grateful grin, surprised to see that such a pervert could be so nice. "Thanks."

"No problem. What'cha pacing around for anyway, Dai-chan? What'd Saehara want with you?"

Daisuke jumped, the upcoming excitement/dread of the day once again plaguing his mind. "Oh…right. I have visitors coming to see me soon," he said quietly, wringing his hands nervously. "Riku-san and Harada-san requested a visit the minute I got here, so I guess that's why I get one after just a day…"

"That's great!" Dark said cheerfully. "I remember them – you mentioned them yesterday. When do I get to meet my lovely koibito's little friends?"

Daisuke blanched. "You see – _this_ is why I'm nervous." He blew a bitter raspberry in Dark's direction. "You're gonna scare them away some way or another… Either that, or you'll act so _Dark-ish_ and perverted that they'll think I've gone gay – which I haven't, despite what you want to think!"

Dark sighed, shaking his head in mock dissatisfaction. "Looks like we can't spell 'denial' without a Dai!"

Daisuke sent Dark an odd look. "…Yes we can."

"If you take out the 'e' and the 'n' and the 'l' in denial, and then scramble up the three letters you have left, what do you get?"

"Ida isn't a word, Dark," Daisuke informed his cellmate, feigning obliviousness and speaking with the slow, helpful tone one would use when explaining something to a child.

"DAI, DAMN IT!"

Daisuke chuckled to himself. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. …But really, Dark." His expression turned serious as he gazed at Dark with sparkling crimson eyes. "I don't want you popping up in the middle of my visit and making them think I'm 'with' you. I'd never hear the end of it."

Dark scowled, looking away from Daisuke once the 'look' appeared on the redhead's face. He knew he wouldn't succumb to the 'look' if he didn't _see_ the 'look' – the look being those full, pouty lips, and those giant, glistening scarlet eyes, and the adorable way Daisuke was staring up at him with the most pleading expression written all over his face…

Damn it.

"Fine, I won't 'pop up in the middle of your visit'." Dark rolled his eyes. "But you owe me a _favor_." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No," Daisuke replied simply, stuffing the last bite of his bagel into his mouth (He'd been eating it the entire time? Dark wondered incredulously.)

Rats. "Well, are you going to tell me about your little friends at least?" Dark asked, wondering what kind of friends Daisuke had – and more importantly so, if they were _more_ than friends.

"Well, Harada-san and Riku-san are sisters, and I've known them since grade school. In high school, Riku-san and I…dated." Dark bristled, but Daisuke didn't seem to notice. "For three years, actually. But…I broke it off with her when I realized it wasn't love. It was really just a close friendship. I never looked into her big brown eyes with love, and I didn't creepily adore her shiny brown hair or anything… She was heartbroken, but it would only hurt the both of us if I kept on lying to myself."

Dark was silent for a short moment. "Does she still love you?"

It seemed like an odd question to Daisuke, but he gave a noncommittal shrug. "That's what everybody says. But she hides it well if they're right. We're back to being friends in my book."

"Hm." Dark gained a contemplative facet in his eyes as he digested this information. "I see."

"Oh, hey, the visiting center is on the other side of the building. Saehara said he'd meet up me halfway, so I gotta jet. I'll meet up with you later, Dark. Bye!" Daisuke rushed out of the cell, waving cheerfully. "Thanks again for the bagel!"

Dark nodded distractedly. "Hm. Yeah." Daisuke's footsteps died away and he smirked. "We'll meet up all right," he murmured. "Just not as later as you think."

------

"Riku-san!" Daisuke smiled and bounded right up to the glass, waving cheerfully.

"Niwa-kun, are you all right?" Riku half-screamed, her voice slightly hysterical. She pressed her hands against the glass, staring wistfully at him. "How are you holding up here?"

"Pretty well, surprisingly. Thanks for coming, by the way, Riku-san," Daisuke replied, leaning into the glass right in front of her. "It really means a lot to me."

Riku blushed. "It's no problem, Niwa-kun. Risa and I are glad to be here."

"Speaking of Harada-san…where _is_ she anyway?"

"She's parking the car. For a prison, it's pretty hard to find a parking spot," Riku informed Daisuke, letting out a weak chuckle. "She said she'd catch up with us when she's found one, which I'm sure she has already. She's probably wandering around here right now, trying to find the office…"

/- insert tacky music here -/

"Where the hell is the visitors' center?" Risa exploded. She glared at the door nearest to her, too stressed to even regard the poster tacked to its surface ('Kill bad habits – not your ex-wife.'), and resisted the urge to kick it. "I've been walking around this damn place for _forever_!" She crossed her arms, the panic of being lost in a _prison_ – of all places – finally sinking in. "I'm too pretty to be prison-raped!"

Footsteps approached her from behind, and the brunette whirled around in panic.

"Relax, relax." Dark approached the frantic woman freaking out in the middle of the hallway slowly, raising his hands up in defense. "I was arrested for burglary, nothing hardcore like murder or anything."

"Oh." Risa froze, staring right into Dark's shining lilac eyes as all pangs of panic slowly dissipated from her system. "That's good," she replied lamely, entranced by this man's beauty.

Dark stifled a chuckle, inwardly wondering what a woman was doing in a men's prison, aimlessly wandering its convict-filled halls. It wasn't everyday a jailbird fell upon an exploring female –

Wait a second.

Big brown eyes…shiny brown hair…

Holy crap served with tuna fish.

Harada Riku!

"Y-you! You're –" Dark couldn't even string a simple accusation together.

"I'm what?" Risa asked in confusion, tilting her head to the side. This guy was weird – but hot nonetheless…

"Beautiful!" Dark screamed out, unable to continue his sentence. Instead, he had shouted out the first thing that came to mind; boy did he regret it.

"Kyaaah!"

Dark took a wary step back, wholeheartedly regretting making up that compliment. Prisoners couldn't have stalkers, could they?

One look at the gushing woman's glittering eyes answered the question. Gee – wasn't Riku supposed to be in love with Daisuke!?

"Uhm…" Dark took another step back. "You wouldn't happen to know Niwa Daisuke, would you?"

Risa paused. How did this weird, hot, burglar-of-a-guy know Niwa-kun?

"Well yeah. I'm here with my sister to visit him." She suddenly remembered just _why_ she was wandering around the prison anyway. "Do you think you can direct me to the visitors' center? I'm kind of…lost," she ended lamely.

Dark's eyes narrowed. Lead Riku to Daisuke? Lead Riku to Daisuke and watch as the two reconciled a lost love? Watch as the two reconciled a lost love while _he_ was the one who deserved his precious Dai-chan?

He thought _not_!

Hiding his sneaky 'ooh-ooh-look-at-me-I'm-a-sly-fox' look from the brown-eyed woman, he sent her a charming smile and tossed his head back a bit. "Why, of course I will. It would be a crime to not help such a delightful young maiden."

Risa blushed and followed the dashing man further down the hallway. "Thank you so much!" Maybe after visiting Daisuke, she could get this man's name…

"Just a couple more doors down and – here!" Dark pointed excitedly at a marked door, motioning at it with fervor. "This is it!"

"Niwa-kun's in there?" Risa asked dubiously. The door was labeled _'Cleaning Supplies'_…

"Why, of course he is," Dark answered as politely as he could while trying to hide his disdain for the woman who had used to hold Daisuke's heart. "Let me open the door for you."

"So polite!" Risa remarked, and she smiled at the wine-eyed man brightly. She would definitely be getting his name later…

"Why, thank you." Dark turned the knob and a fiendish smirk fixed itself upon his lips. "Before you go in, Harada-san…" He ignored Risa's gasp of surprise at the fact that he knew her name. "May I say one last thing?"

The wary Risa nodded.

"He is _mine_," Dark hissed, pulling the door wide open. "Dai-chan will _NEVER_ belong to you again!"

And with a terrified shriek and the toppling of several worn brooms, Harada Risa – not Harada Riku, mind you – was unceremoniously shoved into the dark confines of a closet.

Dark chuckled evilly and turned the lock, wholeheartedly relishing in the loud _click_ it made amidst Risa's protests and orders to be let out. "Sorry, Riku-_san_," he whispered into the door, mocking the honorary attached to her name, "but it had to be done."

"Riku? I'm not –!"

Dark ignored Risa's muffled objections and walked away, whistling a cheerful tune.

Now where was Daisuke?

/- insert more tacky music -/

"Dai-chan, YOU'RE _MINE!_" Dark burst dramatically into the visiting room he was sure Daisuke was in, the adrenaline of locking poor, innocent Harada Riku into a closet still coursing through his veins.

"Who the hell are you? Get out!"

"Yu, now, now, calm down, it's just Dark."

"You're ruining our FAMILY TIME!" A female visitor banged on the glass partition angrily, eyes blazing with a look that promised to spill blood.

"Yu-chan…"

"AAAARRRGGGGHHHH! I'LL KILL YOU!"

Dark quickly exited through the door he had entered through. Wrong person. --;; But that would certainly be the first time he had ever seen a prisoner who was more peaceful than his out-of-prison visitor…

"Dai-chan, YOU'RE _MINE_!"

The lavender-haired had struck the right gold mine this time.

"Dark, what the hell?" Daisuke's slumped posture straightened up in surprise, and he turned around quickly to face his intruder.

"Guess what I did, Dai-_chaaaaan_!" Dark sang, almost giggling with glee. "I –"

"Who's this, Niwa-kun?"

Dark looked up in shock, seeing for the first time the woman on the other side of the visitor's glass – seeing the big brown eyes and the shiny brown hair that she had tied up with an elastic tie. "Y-you!" For the second time that morning, Dark was utterly speechless. "You! No, not you!"

Daisuke arched an eyebrow at his cellmate's behavior before letting out a sigh of defeat. "Riku-san, this is one of my cellmates: Dark. I specifically told him _not_ to barge in on us, but he doesn't listen to me." He rolled his eyes and Riku giggled.

"This is Riku?" Dark half-yelled, staring transfixed at the brunette on the other side of the room.

"Yes." Daisuke, although miffed that Dark had undermined his request, sent the older man a concerned glance. "You okay?"

"Uh… Uh…" _Shit – if this is Riku, then who the hell did I just lock into a closet?_

Riku gasped and Daisuke pinned Dark down with the most horror-struck look he could muster. "_What_?" the two demanded simultaneously.

Dark blinked. "…Did I just say that aloud?"

Shit.

"_YES_!"

Double shit.

------

**1: **I like the nickname Red… Krad shall now call Daisuke Red. n.n Not overly so, of course, but it shall pop up a couple of times from now on.

**Killah: **And the fourth chapter is _finally_ up! I am _completely_ sorry for taking FOREVER! ./stabs self/ T-T SORRYsorrySORRYsorry!

The Dark and Risa scene was a little weird for me. It was a DOUBLE POV. Omg! xDDD It wasn't just Dark, ignorantly referring to Risa as Riku, and it wasn't just Risa, star-struck-edly referring to Dark as the purple-eyed this or the mauve-haired that. It was _both of them_ being clueless about _the other_, but with _us_ knowing exactly what was going on. Omg! Ahhhhhh!

By the way, my rendition of a prison is entirely accurate. Its laxness and unrealism obviously reinforce that fact! Never mind that Risa is just walking around the place without a guard-escort, and never mind that Daisuke gets to be visited by the Haradas in a big old room separated by a huge screen of glass in between them and not the usual booth-thing with a tiny-ass window and two phones on either side of it, and never mind that the cell door always seems to be open, and that Daisuke and company walk in and out of it at their own will. My descriptions of this jail are _completely_ like those of a real-life jail! Yes, yes, go to jail, so you too may bask in the easy-and-without-discipline-filled greatness of prison.

…I hope you didn't believe any of that. O.O Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and decide to drop a review to express your opinion. Thanks!


	5. Enter the Horrors of CEX

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi – hints of Riku+Daisuke, but _she doesn't get him_! BWUHAHAHA xD

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, and language.

Thanks for all the reviews! I got laughs, the feeling of being loved, and a couple of _ideas_ from your reviews, people, so pat yourselves on the back! Also, please remember that in the second or so chapter, I mentioned that Dark **wore a black mask **when he played the role of the Phantom Thief. Don't be all, "Hey, idiot, Dark doesn't wear a mask!" This is /my/ AU – I can have it that way. /sticks out tongue/ xD

------

"H-how are _you_ Riku when _she_ looked like _you_, but is apparently _not_ Riku?" Dark questioned hurriedly, pointing at Riku, then to the door, then back to Riku.

Daisuke blinked. "Way-way-_wait_," he cut in, raising his hands up to stop Dark. "…_What_?"

"They look exactly alike!" Dark exclaimed, pointing at Riku accusatorily.

"They're twins and – hey! Stop trying to change the subject. My god, Dark!" Daisuke tugged at his hair angrily, directing his vehement gaze toward the wine-haired man. "You locked Harada-san into a _closet_."

Dark twiddled his fingers silently. "…M_aaaaaa_ybe so," he sang, raising his eyes to the heavens (…ceiling?) in an attempt to play innocent.

"Dark, go get her out of that closet! _NOW._"

"But I don't _wanna_," Dark moaned, grabbing onto Daisuke and hanging off his shoulders.

"Hey, moron!" Riku yelled, banging on the glass. "You listen to Niwa-kun and get my idiot sister out of that closet!"

Dark straightened up and glared at Riku. "Yeah? Well, well…you _suck_!" he yelled ferociously, baring his teeth at her.

"What? How immature! …No _you_ do!"

"_You_ suck!"

"No _you_!"

Before the two could continue their childish bickering, and before Daisuke could attempt to break it up, the door behind Riku burst open and a chipper Risa came skipping in.

The visiting room went silent and its three occupants turned to stare at Risa.

"Uh. …Hi?" the brunette greeted uncertainly, confused at their reaction to her entrance.

"Damn it!" Dark swore, glaring at the ground.

"Risa!" Riku cried in surprise, ignoring Dark. "How'd you get out of that closet?"

"Oh!" Risa grinned and fixed one of the bows in her hair. "I was banging on the door, trying to order that odd man to let me out –" A pair of angry brown and red eyes glanced toward Dark, but Risa didn't seem to notice. "–when it just popped right open. I peered outside and saw a tall blonde guy and a skinny blue-haired guy with glasses staring at me kinda funny. I thought they must have been running a race together or something, because they were both red and panting–"

Daisuke discarded his anger for a quick moment, and he and Dark exchanged knowing looks, trying to stifle their impending laughter.

"–so I thanked them and got out of the closet. But it was like they didn't even know I was there. They rushed into the closet and closed the door behind them. I was about to open it to make sure they didn't lock themselves in, like I did, but then I heard banging noises an a loud groan."

Dark was nearly rolling on the floor in laughter while Daisuke's face had grown beet red at the thought of what his two cellmates had been doing.

"One of them must've gotten hurt, I thought to myself," Risa continued. "'Cause there was a _lot_ of moaning. I just backed off and wandered around for I bit, and _finally_, I found the building's main office. They directed me over here and…yeah, here I am!"

"How can you be so cheerful?" Riku demanded, whirling around to fully face her sister. "That _thing_ over there just locked you in a closet." She pointed accusingly at Dark through the glass. "And you're not trying to kick his ass?"

"What?" Risa screamed. "Mister Hotness is HERE?" She looked around the room madly, only just now spotting Dark, who was 'surreptitiously' hiding behind Daisuke. "Uh…" Her frenzied expression turned to one of utter indifference and she rephrased her words carefully. "I mean… It's that guy…jerk. Y_eee_sss…"

Riku sighed. "Risa's…being Risa," she decided in defeat, shrugging at Daisuke while Dark cowered at the sight of the rabid Risa.

"Oh, Niwa-kun, looking good," Risa added as an afterthought, glancing at Daisuke's attire. "Prison actually did you some good. I never did like those sweater vests you always wore – no offense, but they made you look like a nerd…"

"You wore _sweater vests_?" Dark chuckled, openly mocking the embarrassed redhead.

_I thought he looked cute in those sweater vests…_ Riku thought idly to herself, a slight blush gracing her features. She had not yet taken the time to actually _look_ at him, so she glanced over at Daisuke, wondering what made Risa praise his choice in clothing when she had always been so critical of his 'style.' She casually looked through the glass –

– only to blush a bright red that would put Daisue's hair to shame. Nearly spouting a nosebleed, Riku hurriedly averted her gaze from Daisuke's hot, tight, un-Daisuke-like, leather pants and stared at the a crack in the wall.

Dark grinned lewdly, noticing the brunette's sudden interest in the wall, and decided to poke fun at the woman who dared to once hold _his_ Daisuke's heart. "What'cha looking at, Riku?" he questioned loudly, grabbing both twin's attention whilst pushing Daisuke up to the glass. "Dai-chan and his sexy pants are right here."

"Dark!" Daisuke groaned in mortification, trying to fight back a blush while Risa expertly inspected him. "Go away!"

Risa's ears perked. "Did you say…Dark?"

Riku emerged from her blush-fest and nodded obliviously. "Yeah. That idiot over there is Dark."

"Stupid woman," Dark snapped, bristling at the comment. "Getting a little _close_, are we? You've known me for three seconds and already you're badmouthing me?"

"Oh my god," Risa squealed, ignoring their bickering and staring right at Dark. "Are you who I think you are?"

"Who do you think he is?" Riku asked in annoyance, crossing her arms at Dark's retort.

"DARK MOUSY!" Risa shrieked, one octave away from shattering the glass separating her from her obsession.

Dark nodded slowly, not noticing the frantic warning gesticulations Daisuke was sending him. "Yeah… And what?"

"KYAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Daisuke slumped over in defeat, overpowered by the waves of fangirl-y-ness that radiated from his best friend's twin's body. "Shouldn't have told her, Dark," he reproached blandly. "Watch. …Just watch."

The puzzled Dark sent a quick glance at the rabid Risa and was suddenly cured of his confusion. "…Crap."

"Yup," Daisuke nodded cheerfully.

"Ohmygod you're Dark Mousy the great Phantom Thief Kaitou-sama I love you _sooo_ much 'cause you're great and hot and you look _awesome_ in leather and they shouldn't have locked you up because you didn't do anything wrong – I mean, who really cares about those old paintings and junk that you stole from the museums 'cause no one uses them anyway they should just naturally belong to you because you're great and I love you and you're the freaking _GREAT PHANTOM THIEF DARK_!"

Dark stared slack-jawed at the raving woman. Was it even _possible_ to say _that_ much in one breath? But oh ho ho, no – she wasn't quite finished yet.

"I've never seen your face before because you always wore that mask and I'm not saying that that was a bad idea because it made you all tall dark and mysterious and that's hot but now I see your face and you're totally hot and ohmygod, you talked to me earlier even though you locked me in a closet but that's okay with me because you're awesome and I don't mind as long as it was you – because you're the _GREAT PHANTOM THIEF DARK_!

"Riku never liked you but I worshipped you and I even had a shrine in my room but kaa-san made me take it down 'cause one of the purple candles almost set the house on fire, but that would be okay 'cause as long as I had you on television, I'd be okay even if my house was burnt down and all – because you're the _GREAT PHANTOM THIEF DARK_!"

That was practically ten minutes worth of talking in three run-on sentences. What a feat!

The red-faced, gushing brunette turned to Daisuke, who reeled back and eyed her warily. "Niwa-kun, why didn't you tell me you met the great Dark-sama?" she demanded.

Daisuke huffed and crossed his arms. "Dark's not so great," he scoffed, sending Dark a jeer.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?" Risa screeched.

"…Nothing."

Dark stuck his tongue out a Daisuke, chuckling at his sour expression. "You got yelled at," he sang, hugging Daisuke from behind.

"Dark! Get off me!" Daisuke struggled in vain as the two women stared at him with twin chocolate eyes.

"Niwa-kun…" Risa started slowly.

"Why are you and…" Riku continued.

"Dark-sama…hugging?"

Daisuke escaped Dark's grasp and rushed to the glass, pounding against it urgently. "We are _not_ hugging. _He's_ hugging _me_. _I _don't want it!"

Riku and Risa exchanged wary glances. "R_iii_ght…"

Risa arched an eyebrow while Riku withered sadly. "Is there something you'd like to tell us, Niwa-kun?" the younger woman asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I share a cell with a pervert!"

Dark chuckled, coming up from behind the flustered redhead once again. He grabbed Daisuke's slim waist, twirling him around and pressing his back against the glass. "Surely you don't _mean_ that, Dai-_chan._" He smirked, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the forlorn Riku. _Take that, girlie! Daisuke's MINE! _He pressed his palms against the glass on either side of Daisuke's head, trapping him there. "You know you love me."

Daisuke blushed at the position Dark had pushed him into. "Stop saying that, Dark! Riku-san, Harada-san, don't believe him!"

"It's all right if you're gay or bi or something, Niwa-kun. You've got five years left here – no one expects you to spend them lonely," Risa stated frankly. "And even though I worship the ground Dark-sama walks on, I also worship yaoi… So I'm all good."

"I'm not gay! Or bi!"

"Of course you're not…"

"You heard the lady, Dai-chan – this means hard fucking from now on!" Dark exclaimed excitedly, only to be sent a piercing glare from Daisuke.

"WAH – NIWA-KUN, HOW _COULD_ YOU? You know I still love you!"

Daisuke froze. "What?" he yelped, swiveling his neck around to send Riku a quick glance (Dark wouldn't let him move from their compromising position). "You _what_?"

Riku sighed. "You clueless oaf…"

"But you let me break up with you…"

"Clueless! Utterly clueless!" Riku exclaimed in exasperation, raising up her arms. "Risa, we're leaving! Good-_BYE, _Niwa-kun." She stalked out of the room, letting the door slam loudly behind her.

"Dark!" Daisuke snapped once he had found his voice. "Look what you did! Now Riku-san's mad at me!"

"Don't worry about it, Niwa-kun. She's just sad that you've moved on while she hasn't," Risa commented wisely. "She'll get over it eventually, and we'll visit you again." The brunette glanced about the room, checking for spectators or her vehement sister. When the coast was clear, she eagerly whispered against the glass to a smirking Dark, "When you guys finally do it, take pictures and send them to me."

Daisuke pushed the off-guard Dark off him and whirled around to face Risa. "Do what? Take pictures? Of what?"

Risa merely smiled at him in response.

"When we do _what_? – oh. OH. _Ooooooh_. EW, HARADA-SAN! Stop it!" Daisuke batted the glass defensively, pouting at her. "Dark and I are _not_ together, I'm not gay, _or_ bi, and there won't be anything to take pictures _of_. So there!"

"Suuuuure," Risa chuckled, winking over Daisuke's shoulder at Dark. "That _really_ explains the message on the back of your shoulder…" She giggled again before waving at him. "Bye, Niwa-kun – we'll be back soon. Bye, Dark-sama – you take good care of him, okay?"

Dark nodded cheerfully and the chocolate-eyed woman bounced out the door.

"Message?" Daisuke repeated. "On the back of my shoulder…?"

…The tattoo: **I –heart– _Dark Mousy_**

"OH CRAP – DID SHE SEE THAT?"

Dark chortled. "Oh yeah."

"No!" Daisuke shouted, banging haphazardly on the glass. "Harada-san, it's not what you think! It's a LLLLLLIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE! I don't heart him! _HARADA-SAN! _You read it wrong! It's not 'heart!' It's 'hate!' I hate him! _NOOOOOO, HARADA-SAAAAAN!_"

Two nice men in prison guard uniforms came barreling through the door, dragging a kicking, screaming, sobbing, nonsense-spewing, Dark-hating, Harada-san-calling Daisuke out of the visiting room.

The violet-haired man blinked and shrugged. "…Alrighty then…" He followed the trio out the door at his own leisurely pace, whistling as he did so. "I'm liking this day already," he decided.

------

Niwa Daisuke, prisoner 0082495, was not a happy camper. After being shut into solitary confinement for 'disruptive behavior,' he had spent the last twenty minutes staring into space, plotting Dark's demise. Had any officers or passersby peered through the panel of glass set into the top of the door, they would have seen his slapdash twitching/rocking and mad Dark-maiming mumbling.

"_Grab his hair and make him shout,_" Daisuke sang cheerfully, his left eye twitching slightly, "_kick his nads and pull them out! _Heheheheh…" He chuckled and rocked forward slightly.

Suddenly, something caught his darting eyes' attention. A rolled up magazine sat inconspicuously in a corner of the room, calling out to him. _Read me. I'm super keen._

Daisuke stood and shuffled over to the magazine."They're letting me _read_ whilst in solitary confinement?" he asked aloud, mind reeling with the incredulity of his find. "I thought it was supposed to be all hardcore strict…" He unrolled the magazine and spared an unsuspecting glance at its title…

_**CEX**_

"Oh god, what the hell?" Daisuke screeched, dropping the glossy magazine in horror. "Sex! This entire prison is psycho!"

_Read me, Daisuke,_ the book whispered.

"No, I don't wanna!" Daisuke whimpered in horror, still eyeing the magazine's title in fear. "No sex, no sex!"

_CEX, CEX, CEX! _it screamed at him.

"NO! You can't make me have sex with Dark!" Daisuke screamed back, picking the magazine up and shaking it by the shoulders…eh…pages. O.o

…_I never said anything about Dark, _the book pointed out.

"Yeah, well…maybe you did! You – you… You shut up!"

A chuckle rang within Daisuke's ears, mocking him for his lack of a better comeback. Damn magazine…had to be so freakin' smug…

_Why don't I _tell _Dark that you've got him on your mind? Hmmmmm?_

"No! You can't tell him! You –!"

Whilst thinking up a good old rotten name to call the magazine, Daisuke spotted a pair of wide, unfamiliar, hazel eyes staring at him oddly through the glass of the door. He froze, and a fine eyebrow arched in his direction, clearly asking, ..._Who the fuck are you talking to?_

Daisuke glanced down at the magazine, then to the person at the door, then back at the magazine, then back to the person. "Eh…" He grinned widely and let out a sheepish chuckle. "…Hi…?"

The person at the door slowly backed away, hazel eyes still wide and freaked-out, until he disappeared completely.

Daisuke sighed. "My god, I'm going mad…" he muttered to himself.

_Sane people read magazines, _the glossy book stated helpfully.

"That makes sense…" Daisuke mumbled vaguely. He flipped the magazine open to the first page, where – again – the word 'CEX' was printed in large, bold print. "I swear…I'll kill myself if this entire magazine is just this word printed over and over again…" He turned the page.

_**CEX**_

However, this time, below the title were the four words _**Ce**llblock Si**x**'s Official Magazine_. The C, the E, and the X were all emphasized, and Daisuke's eyes widened comically. So _that's_ what the whole 'cex' thing was about…

Daisuke let out another sheepish grin and chuckled. Oops. No sex at all!

_With Dark, _the magazine added.

"No!" Daisuke snapped, scandalized.

_So… You _want _sex with Dark?_

"You – you… I'm just going to read you now…" Daisuke sighed and began to leaf through the magazine. He blatantly skipped the article (a whopping three-pager!) titled '12 New Ways to Please Your Man,' along with several smaller pieces of similar interests (those of which Daisuke did not share /cough/ homosexuality /cough/ yeah right /skeptic cough/). These were respectively named: 'Finding Your Perfect Man,' 'Tall, Dark, and Right Under Your Nose (Read This and He'll be Under _You_!),' 'Drag – Why It's the Right Thing to Do,' and finally, 'Ukes – Why _They're _the Right People to Do' (which was printed on the immediate back of its former article).

Finally, Daisuke found something nonsexual. He had been so surprised at his discovery that he had paused and frozen for an entire quarter hour.

When he came to, he read through the short article, an unofficial study on individuality (written by the editor, some person named…_T-C_…). Following it was a "fun _'you!'_ quiz," and he, having nothing else better to do, decided to take it.

What is your favorite color?**_  
_**c) royal purple _(3 points)_

Well he didn't like mud brown, puke green, and tickle-me-pink, that was for sure…so he chose the most practical one.

Do you like tall people?**_  
_**b) yes _(1.2 points)_

You'll hang out with people who are…  
b) funny and nice (2 points) 

You like…**_  
_**d) dark, isolated places where you can think _(3.2 points)_

You hate…**_  
_**b) creepy, pompous jerks who always bug you _(5.5 points)_

Someone you know is…  
a) a creepy, pompous jerk who always bugs you (1 point) 

You took this quiz because…  
d) you were stuck in solitary confinement and the magazine was talking to you (4.3 points)

Daisuke stared wide-eyed at the last question. Now that was specific… He chuckled at the peculiarity of it all, eventually shrugging the oddness away, and then flipped over to page 45, where the results were posted up.

After tallying up his total points like the great mathematician he was, Daisuke searched for his score range. To his surprise…he found his exact number – decimals and all – in plain text…right at the top of the page.

Talk about creepy.

_**20.2 Points**_  
_You took this quiz to learn more about yourself. Well here it is: you are madly in love with Dark Mousy._

Daisuke sputtered and gagged on his own shock. Just who the hell wrote this thing?

_You may think it odd, but there is proof!  
1) Your favorite color is purple. What color are Dark's eyes and hair? Hmmm?  
2) You like tall people. Dark is tall.  
3) You'll hang out with funny and nice people – Dark is both of those things!  
64) You like dark, iso– oh! Look at that. You like Dark; see, it wasn't that hard to admit it, now was it?  
93) You hate creepy, pompous blah blah blah. Well…you might say this at first (because you're obviously in denial)…but this answer proves that you had Dark on your mind. How romantic!  
Duck) Someone you know is a creepy, pompous, etc. …Look past the insult and note the fact that you were thinking of Dark-sama! Kawaii!  
7) So CEX did talk to you! Congratulations! He teased you about Dark, didn't he? Heheh… CEX is such a tease. X3_

Okay. Daisuke breathed out his bated breath and furrowed his eyebrows. Just who the hell wrote all this nonsense? He irately turned the page, nearly ripping it out while in the process of doing so, and found a listing of Chinese zodiac signs.

That was pretty normal, and so he made the innocent decision to read it. The redhead naturally assumed that there could be nothing Dark-related in his zodiac fortune.

Oh how wrong he was!

_**Sheep**_  
_You are elegant, creative, and most importantly, you do best in the arts. As a timid – albeit passionate – sheep, you seek peace. You are most compatible with Dark Mousy. Avoid women and straight men._

Daisuke was silent for a minute before growling ferociously. "WHAT?" he half-screamed. And with an almost-insane gleam in his eye, he flipped ardently through the magazine, trying to put as many pages as possible between himself and the mention of his being 'compatible with Dark.' He found himself on a page of horoscopes, and before he could stop himself, he had begun reading his horoscope, purely out of habit.

_**Gemini – The Twins**_  
_You will have a good year, for you are adaptable and versatile, communicative and witty, madly in love with Dark Mousy, intellectual and eloquent, and youthful and lively. However, watch out for your dark side, for you may sometimes be nervous and tense, superficial and inconsistent, and constantly denying your love for Dark. That is bad._

"ARRRRRRGGGGGHHH!"

The redhead slammed the magazine shut, ready to shred it into a million pieces and throw it to the four corners of the earth. However, a rather small detail caught his eye as his gaze strayed over the magazine's cover.

_Editor-in-Chief, and Writer of All That is Good:_

A genuine signature was signed smack dab at the bottom of the magazine cover, its curled curves elegantly scribed with an intricate hand.

The scarlet-eyed jailbird knew what was coming. The thorough, in-depth guides and how-to's of gay life, the insane, creepy stalking-and-supposed-mind-reading-ness of Daisuke himself, the so-called 'subtle' pushes of setting Daisuke up with Dark, the consistent insignias of the initials T-C… It could only be one person…

…

…

…

…

_– Towa-chan,  
The ultimate bishounen fan –_

And that one person it was. Daisuke sighed.

Figures…

------

**Killah: **Towa-chan strikes again! BWUHAHAHA! xD Anyway…I had planned to make the visit longer and funnier… But it came out the way it did, and I can't change that (well I can but I dunt wanna). xD Heh… A talking magazine – just _what_ exactly was I smoking? xDDD Anyway, I'm sorry if I got Daisuke's horoscope and zodiac signs wrong. I don't exactly know his birthday date…nor do I know his birth year. xO It doesn't matter, though, because no matter what the sign was, it would've said the same things about Dark anyway. xD

Yay! **Review? **It makes me feel loved. x3 …People who don't feel loved don't update often. :-D …Just thought to ought to know this completely irrelevant fact of life! Heheh…


	6. Enter Chris John Ken Smith VI

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, language, and stereotypes (bordering on racism xDDD) against Asians. Please note that all Asian-cracks are for the good of humor. I neither believe in them, nor do I find them amusing. …Okay, I'm lying, Asian cracks are funny – but they're just _jokes_ mixed with American ignorance. If you are offended, I'm sorry.

Congrats to all you Sheep and Gemini. …Sadly, I am neither…so boo-hoo for me. xD Apparently, all of you, like Dai-chan, are madly in love with Dark Mousy. However, as dedicated yaoi fangirls…you must stay away from the great kaitou and leave him for Daisuke to claim. xD

I.AM.LOVED.questionmark.exclamationmark. /sobs in a corner in disbelief/ I love you all, my faithful readers and reviewers. T-T I don't feel _worthy_ of the floods of praise I'm getting… I should just crawl into a hole and refuse to accept any of it all… But alas – that would mean no updates, and that's very cruel of me. Therefore: here's the next chapter, and HEARTS OUT TO ALL!

------

"Daisuke's back," Krad called out loudly, though more for Dark's benefit than for his or Satoshi's. He leaned back in his rickety chair, making its front legs lift off the ground, and averted his attention back to his book, a surprisingly long, intelligent-looking one. Daisuke stopped for a quick second, pondering just what Krad might look like in a pair of smart glasses, before Dark bounded up and hugged him around the neck.

"Welcome back!" The plum-locked man squeezed him almost chokingly, and Daisuke had to bite his shoulder to make him let go.

"Yeah YEAH, _thanks_, I GET IT." Daisuke lightly wrung the skin of his neck, making sure it hadn't been squeezed into oblivion, and ran a disgruntled hand through his hair.

"And you're back just in time!" Dark began to fiddle with the top button (or fifth, seeing that he the first four had been left open for 'sexy' effects) of his black collared shirt. He successfully unbuttoned it and started on the next one. "We're about to be dismissed soon."

"Dismissed for what?"

Dark discarded the dark over-shirt, revealing the tight white muscle shirt underneath, and tossed it into the vicinity of his bed, though not quite _on_ it, per say. "Gym class," he informed confidently – and he stripped off his leather pants with such ease and quickness that it just wasn't natural.

"Whoa there, cowboy!" Daisuke exclaimed, using a phrase Riku was oddly fond of. "Put your pants back on!"

"I'm changing," Dark explained rationally, as though ripping his pants off like a strip-star was absolutely rational. He whipped a pair of black, khaki-styled shorts out of seemingly nowhere and pulled them over his boxers. "There. All done. Now it's your turn!"

Daisuke hadn't realized that he had not covered his eyes at Dark's immodesty like he thought he would have. However, he did pull a face, almost repulsed at the insinuation to strip. "No, I don't think so." He turned away from Dark's perverted-slash-puppy-dog-slash-bedroom eyes and arched an eyebrow. "…So why does a prison have a…gym class?" he questioned lamely, reminiscing about his poor physical education grades back in high school.

Satoshi appeared from behind them. He, too, was clad in similar clothing to Dark's, though his knee-long carmine shorts were made of a porous material not unlike that of a basketball jersey's. He, unlike Dark, had had the reserve to throw on his new change of clothing in the shadow of a bunk bed, rather than right out in the open. "It's not so much a gym class as it is the Warden forcing the prisoners to get up and run around for a while. The Warden knows without proper exercise and all that crap, everyone'll get fat and more useless than usual."

Krad appeared beside Satoshi, tucking his book under his arm. "It's a lot like a recess. We get it every other day after lunch… And despite what Satoshi said about getting up and running around, we mostly just mill around and socialize. It's all about the fresh air, not the _exercise_."

"Then… Why do we need to change?" Daisuke bent over his footlocker, pulling out a pair of camouflage-patterned shorts like Dark's. He didn't bother grabbing another shirt; his wifebeater would suffice.

"Regulation uniform," Krad replied automatically.

"You need to change, Krad," Dark cut in, poking his blonde cellmate in the forehead.

Satoshi and Krad exchanged glances. "That's right," the topaz-eyed man said slowly, his gaze leaving Satoshi's at the same snail's pace. "I _do_ need to change. Why don't you both leave?" He directed this comment toward Dark and Daisuke, who tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"…I need to change, too," Daisuke mumbled aloud, though more to himself than to anyone else in the cell.

Satoshi tore his gaze away from Krad, taking the same slothfulness his lover had. "Yes… You _do_ need to change. Perhaps you'd like some _assistance_."

"Perhaps I would," Krad articulated slowly.

Whatever insinuations and implications there were laced within their slow-paced conversation slipped Daisuke's mind, and he stood stupidly confused with a pair of army-design shorts clenched in his hands. "Uh."

"Maybe I should help you with this…" Satoshi reached up and slowly pulled the zipper of Krad's light gray track jacket down. However, his teeth were clenched, giving the chuckling Dark the impression that he would much rather have his teeth around that zipper, rather than his fingers.

"Yes," Krad murmured. "You should. Why don't you help me…?" He shoved his lips against Satoshi's and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him to the back of the cell. Reluctantly, he broke the lip lock and dragged the blunette to the shadowed wall behind their bunk.

Thumps and groans ensued.

Daisuke hugged his shorts to his chest. "They're at it again!" he stated incredulously. "They never stop!"

"Well, would _you_ pass up a sexy Krad who plans to get half naked all alone in his cell?" Dark asked rhetorically.

"_Yes_!" Daisuke screeched. "I'm not into guys."

"Yeah," Dark rolled his eyes and exited through the newly opened doors, "sure."

There were more thumps and groans, along with the sound of a zipper descending. Krad's silver jacket went flying over Daisuke's head, which made the disconcerted redhead deduce that if _that_ zipper was long gone, then there was only one zipper left to pull down…

The very flustered Daisuke bolted, change of clothing still clutched in his hands.

------

During lunch (a good half hour in which Krad and Satoshi suspiciously didn't show up), Daisuke had changed into his shorts in the bathroom beside the mess hall. Sure, he had to lock the main bathroom door and lock the door of his stall to stop Dark from barreling in, but he got it done.

After making a quick stop at the cell to drop off his pants and pick up Krad and Satoshi, the quartet of bad boys trekked to the back gate.

"Okay." A man with bright green hair and a rifle was speaking. "You all know the rules. No fighting, no trying to escape, no trying to seduce the guards, and if you're going to have sex, do it behind the building. Thank you."

The gates opened on their own accord, and the large hoard of gathered prisoners surged forward, moving as one large mass. The front of the group immediately broke apart, trickling this way and that in pairs of two (and some even three). The four men of Cell 608 continued forward, and the people in back of them drifted away, too. Soon, they were left alone, trampling the grass as they walked about aimlessly.

"What now?" Daisuke asked.

"…" Krad and Satoshi exchanged glances before tipping their imaginary hats to him and Dark.

"We're off to…" Satoshi trailed off. "Uh…" Krad silenced the talking blunette with a quick kiss, and without another word, the two sped off…in a direction that _suspiciously _lead to the rear the building.

Dark chuckled. "Lucky bastards," he sighed wistfully. Then, after sending Daisuke a sidelong glance, he sighed again, though this time theatrically. "I wish _I_ had someone so, so…_committed _to me to have sex with me behind a building."

Daisuke's eyes widened incredulously. "…Yeah, Dark. That's pretty…romantic." He let out a forced simper.

Dark chuckled to himself and continued to lead Daisuke forward with no actual destination in mind. The redhead silently observed his surroundings. Fellow prisoners ambled this way and that, guards looked lax and mildly amused, and the courtyard was large and grassy with a gentle breeze and a shining sun. Everything was peaceful.

"HEY MAGGOTS, REPORT TO THE GREAT CHRIS RIGHT NOW!"

…Except for that.

"Hey, hey, what's all this? Ne, Dai-chan, let's investigate." Dark dashed towards the large group of prisoners that had begun to form a tight semi-circle just a couple of yards ahead. Daisuke blinked at Dark's enthusiasm and shrugged in defeat, resignedly trailing after his cellmate.

"Move your face, you." Dark shoved a scrawny guy to the side and dragged Daisuke forward. "Come, Daisuke, let's see what's going on." He pushed their way past everyone else and finally surfaced to the front. What they saw was certainly not what they had expected…

A gaijin.

The white man was something else. He had bleached platinum hair that clashed horribly with his California-bronzed skin. Wearing only a white polo tucked into a pair of red short-shorts that were too short for a man of his muscled structure, he looked both silly and intimidating at the same time. He sported a shiny silver whistle slung around his neck and had a sock tan that ran halfway up his shin.

"Listen up, _ladies_!" The man who called himself Chris blew his whistle and clapped his hands to grab everyone's baffled attention. "I am Chris John Ken Smith VI. Don't call me Robinson-kun or Chris-san, or any of your wacky Japanese stuff… This is American football, so you will refer to me like an American: call me Coach!"

There was a moment of silence before the questions came pouring out of everyone's mouths.

"Chris John Ken Smith the Sixth? What the hell kind of name is that?"

"Wacky Japanese stuff? …Baka no gaijin…"

"Football? …Like soccer?"

"No – _no!_ Don't _ever_ compare football to SOCCER! Soccer is for girls and moms. And can't you see I'm not even European? Can't you _see_?"

"Hey, I can see just fine!"

"Who the hell is this guy?"

"SHUT UP!" Chris blew his whistle again. "All of you shut up! Now by approaching me and listening to what I have to say, you have made an unspoken agreement with me to join the prison's newly instated football team!"

"_What_? Football?" Dark exploded. "That's stupid!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!" Needless to say, the rest of the group of prisoners agreed. "We don't need to join that."

"Hey, hey! You made an unspoken agreement to join the team when you walked up to me. Aren't you Japanese supposed to protect your honor – keep your oaths, and all that junk? You've _all_ got to be some sort of samurai… So you shut up, all of you! You must join the football team!" Chris stomped his foot childishly. "The idea's too cliché to ignore, you stupid Asians! Now bask in the football-y glory – I command thee!" The blonde clapped his hands twice and a giant net dropped out of nowhere, trapping everyone beneath it.

"Looks like you can_NET _refuse my proposal!" the stupid man giggled, bad pun intended. "Just follow me, and I will bring you to the football field to begin training."

Reluctantly, all those stuck under the net followed Chris as he talked.

"We are soon to be nearing my pride and joy: the football field I have fertilized, watered, mowed, and cut with my own calloused hands." The American whipped the net off the awaited prisoners and extended an arm out to his precious. "There she is, draped in perfect green!"

What a liar.

The tanned man had led the gaggle of jailbirds to a long strip of land poorly maintained and badly lit. The unruly patches of badly cut grass were mixtures of green and yellow with bits of brown soil mixed in, and two tall oak trees towered over the so-called field, blocking the sun from shining over its surface.

"Marvelous, isn't she?" He spoke of the lot as though it were a lady-person. Americans were so odd. Next thing you know, they'd be calling inanimate things like _guitars_,or _cars_, by female pronouns.

Simply preposterous…

"Now let me tell you a little bit about how this team has come into existence. Back in the States, I was but a miserable gym teacher for a public high school. Unsatisfied with my work, I moved here and tried to publicize the great sport of football. Sadly, none of your stupid people in the outside world cared, so the Warden of this prison invited me in and hired me as a coach to teach you all the rules of football. You shall learn and you shall become great. Yes. Ha ha."

Daisuke grumbled to himself. He had had bad experiences with high school gym teachers…

"I am an OC, which, as you may or may not know, is short of an 'operative coach.' The Warden, Author-san, however, despises OCs with all her heart and soul…so I'll probably disappear for long periods of time and leave you all to train alone. Now, with that said… I must jet. BYE!" Chris ran off into the sunset…despite the fact that it was barely an hour past noon.

"Hey, Coach no baka, wait!"

"How the hell do we play football?"

Chris stopped. "Hell if I know!" he shouted back. "Just run around for a while I watch _Remember The Titans_…" And he disappeared.

"Well that makes sense," Dark sighed. "Hey, Daisuke, come run with me!"

Daisuke pouted. "Run? I don't like running."

"Why not?" Dark asked. "You're not a fat kid or anything."

"Hey, you don't know that."

"Well maybe I should lift up your shirt…and find out." The wine-haired man sidled forward, his fingers inconspicuously floating toward the hem of Daisuke's wife beater.

"…Don't touch me," Daisuke deadpanned, slapping Dark's hands away.

"Fine, have it your way." He huffed and changed his right arm's initial direction; instead, he encircled the redhead's wrist. "Come on, Daisuke. Let's train." Dark ran forward, pulling the unwilling Daisuke with him.

"N_ooooo, _don't drag me, Dark!" Daisuke ripped his hand away from Dark's and sighed, falling into a steady jog alongside the plum-eyed man. "Fine! I'm running, see?"

"Splendid. Now you can work up some stamina and endurance. You'll need it, Dai-chan…once we get back to the cell with that big, warm bed that's just sitting there and not being used…" Dark waggled his eyebrows.

"Number one, Dark, I won't need the stamina. Number two, the bed is neither big, _nor_ warm. Number three, it's being used: I sleep in it. A normal person would have the intellect to realize that beds have a purpose in life."

"Yeah, and that purpose is –"

Daisuke stretched an arm out and managed to lightly smack his unstable palm against Dark's mouth. "Don't. Finish. That. Thought," he ground out.

"One."

"Huh?"

"One lap." Dark motioned out toward the shaded field they had just run around. "Now stretch, Dai-chan. Don't want you to pull a muscle and end up sprawled on the ground twitching and vulnerable. …However, I _do_ like that vulnerable-on-the-ground part. Ne, on second thought…I'd rather we not stretch, at all."

Daisuke blanched. "No, Dark. You insisted, after all. _We'll stretch._"

Dark smirked and bent down to touch the floor. "Fine, fine," he sighed. "But you don't know what you're missing."

Daisuke chuckled and pushed his right arm behind his head with his left hand. "Oh, no. I _know_ what I'm missing," he corrected. "And I'm glad."

Dark lunged with his left foot forward and his right foot back. "Ouch, Dai." He raised his hands off his knee and pressed them against his heart. "That hurt."

"Uhm-hm…" Daisuke grunted in response, clapping his feet together and reaching down to touch them.

Dark was not answering.

Dark was too busy staring at Daisuke's butt to answer, something that Daisuke soon realized. With a visibly throbbing temple, the redhead straightened up and kicked Dark out of his sloppily held hollywood. "Hey, pervert!"

Dark grew tangled in a jumble of his own limbs before finally lying upright on his side with the support of his elbow. Wordlessly, he feigned confusion and pointed to himself innocently.

"Yeah, you, you pervert! Quit it."

Dark smirked and pulled himself to his feet in one fluid movement. "Right, right. Just keep acting like I offend you _horribly_. That'll work for another couple days…then you'll be mine." He chuckled rather malevolently, causing Daisuke to back up a bit out of fear and trip over a lump of soil. "Oh, hey, and while you're on the ground, do a couple of pushups. You're looking a bit flabby."

"I'M NOT FLABBY!" Daisuke snapped, blushing bright pink in indignation.

"Says the one who didn't want to run one lap," Dark muttered with humorous scorn. Without another word, he flipped Daisuke over onto his stomach with the toe of his sneaker and poked him lightly in the back. "Now stay dropped and give me twenty."

"I can't do twenty pushups!"

"Then do five," Dark suggested, glancing at his nails disinterestedly.

"I can't do five either. Pushups are _hard_, you know." Daisuke planted his palms to the grass and tried to push up. To no avail, he failed miserably. "I. Can't. Do. A. Friggin. Pushup." The redhead let his legs rest limply on the ground, his feet out of the customary pushup position. With a desperate whinny, he flopped his upper body up and down madly, grunting angrily. "Push_up_. Push_up_! Damn it!" **-1-**

"Dai-chan, as much as I'm liking the show… Let's just say pushups won't be the only hard things here if you keep doing that." Dark smirked as Daisuke flopped face-first into the grass in shock.

"_What? _Dark, you pervert!" Daisuke rolled over onto his back, sitting up slightly.

"I'm not the one orgasmically writhing on the ground…"

Daisuke turned a brilliant shade of pink. "Hey, shut up!"

Dark chortled. "Nice comeback, Dai-chan. Now since you suck at pushups, why don't you do the wussy equivalent? Sit ups!"

Daisuke brightened. "Now those I can do." He settled down comfortably on his back, propped his feet up, and cupped the back of his neck.

Dark dropped to his knees and grabbed hold onto Daisuke's sneakers. "One," he counted as Daisuke pulled himself up.

"Two." Up.

"Three." Up.

That's when an idea struck Dark.

Daisuke surfaced another four times. It wasn't until the fifth sit up did he realize that Dark had stopped counting. Confused, he pulled himself up once more, eyes questioning. "Dar –"

Before he could even finish Dark's name, said man pressed his lips against his, efficiently silencing him. A hot, wet tongue almost immediately entered Daisuke's open mouth and his large scarlet eyes widened in surprise.

Dark was _kissing_ him.

------

**1: **Me too. x.X I can't do a pushup! I'm a failure to the whole human race! …And because of this fact, I also do disgusting!pseudo!pushups (as performed by Dai-chan) during PE class. It's the flippin' best I can do! And it's also a disgusting, disturbing thing I can do. xDDD It's a laugh if you watch me do it. Heh… But don't. O.O It is seriously disgusting. xD

**Killah: **FIRST KISS! KYAAAAHHH!

…I know. /disappointed sigh/ This chapter wasn't very funny, nor very important to the story (aside from the kiss…). O.O It's more of a filler, really. And I don't know where the football thing came in… But this _is_ prison, you know – so there's GOT to be a football team. xD According to the movies, anyway. Heheh… But the football thing _is _a bit important. It shall lead to some very…interesting situations between Dark and Daisuke – some that might interest _you_. HAH!

Plus, in the next chapter, a couple of long-awaited characters will debut during football practices – characters that will either **make **or **break** Dark and Daisuke's rather un-existent relationship. Heheh… Gotta love that situation!

Fear the mention of the football movie, _Remember The Titans_. Also, please fear the fact that you must **review** this chapter as fast as you can!

Why? …No reason. xP Reviews are pretty, is all…

AND PRETTY THINGS ARE TO BE FEARED! RAWR! …Chya. xD


	7. The Plot Thickens – Enter It…

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi; questionable Funabashi/Keiji

**Summary: **(DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, language, and mild stereotypes against Asians.

I'm glad I didn't offend anyone with Chris what's-his-name. As I told a couple of reviewers in review replies, he was modeled after my classmates…who make fun of my tiny eyes and think I can't see. --;; So…if he _does_ offend you, just take pleasure in knowing that I am at the butt of most of these Asian cracks and that I'm completely fine with it. Hell, I make some up for myself, too. xD

I'm officially in love with everyone on earth. …Or rather, just my reviewers. Everyone else can rot in hell if they want. /moment of awkward silence/ Eh… I'm _kidding_, of course. /cough cough/ nn;; But no, seriously. I reached _230+ freakin' reviews _in six bloody chapters. I'm pretty fucking proud, and in debt to you all, minna-sama! ./tackle glomps you all/ Of course, you don't want my gratitude. You all just want to murder me for taking so long on this chapter… /coughs and slinks away/ _But hey – at least this is the longest chapter yet_! ./mumbles to self in a corner/ Maybe that'll make them happy… /eye twitch/

------

There was a loud, painful-sounding thump, followed by a mischievous giggle. The bout of laughter, however, was soon drowned out by a shrill screech that made heads turn.

"_Damn you, Dark, you goddamn jackass!"_

The rest of prisoners looked on in amusement as the infamous Dark Mousy ran from a very violent-looking redhead.

"What'd _I_ do, Dai-chan?" Dark hollered good-naturedly, craning his neck back to shoot Daisuke a pseudo look of confusion.

"Don't you _dare_ ask me that, Dark. Now stop running so I can kill you!" Daisuke sped up, though his slightly shorter legs and resentment towards running set him at a big disadvantage.

"Tempting," Dark shouted jovially. "But no thanks."

"I'll kill you, I'll kill you!" Daisuke chanted murderously. "Uh…I'll hug you!"

Dark stopped right in his tracks and whirled around using the heel of his sneaker. "I'm up for that."

"Moron! I can't believe you _fell_ for that!" With an ear-splitting battle cry, Daisuke launched himself right at Dark's legs, aiming to take him out by the knees.

With a broad, unwavering grin, the stationary Dark easily sidestepped and evaded the attack, watching with morbid interest as Daisuke crashed face-first into the grass with a sickening crunch. Bending down, the purple-eyed hottie smiled consolingly at the redhead's twitching body. "Moron," he returned with a cheerfulness that was impossible for anyone to even attempt to muster. "But I _can_ believe you fell for _me_." He chuckled at his incredible feat, having twisted Daisuke's words into a mutated pun of his own.

"Gonna kill you…" Daisuke gurgled dizzily.

"Right, right," Dark agreed dismissively. Without so much as a warning, he grabbed Daisuke around the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder like one might do to a sack of potatoes.

"Dark, _no_! Let me down – _bad Dark_! Lemme down, I didn't kill you yet!" Daisuke kicked his feet out and pounded his captor's back with his fists.

Dark chuckled sardonically and started to walk over to the set of bleachers lining the sidelines of the football field. "Well that sure gives me the incentive to let you go," he remarked sarcastically. "Now stop that and behave, Dai-chan." And with that admonishing tone, he lightly smacked Daisuke's rear, effectively calming the fussing redhead for a minute.

"DARK, YOU RAPIST!"

…Or maybe for a quick millisecond.

The two eventually reached the stairway of seats, Daisuke kicking and clawing at the other's back the entire time, and Dark gently set the sulking redhead down onto the first bench, unceremoniously dumping himself onto it beside him. Daisuke was surprisingly quiet for a while until he broke their comfortable silence.

"You stole my first man kiss," he whispered in defeat, though his eyes held traces of controlled anger and accusation.

Dark could only chuckle. "Man kiss? Well who were you saving it for? Gackt? Mana?"

Dark straightened up and turned to face Dark, the indignation radiating from him obvious. "I wasn't saving it for _anybody_! I _told_ you, I'm _straight_!"

"Then who was supposed to have it?" Dark demanded. Who was allowed to have _his_ Daisuke's first 'man kiss'?

"My _plan _was to eventually go to a _bar_, get _drunk_ off my _ass_, and _accidentally_ kiss some guy because the _beer goggles_ would make him _look_ like a _girl_." Daisuke rolled his eyes and emphasized each word as though his explanation was completely obvious. "But you stole it! Give it back so I can go kiss a drunk guy!"

"I'm way better than any drunk man, Daisuke. And I can't do that." Dark's eyes sparkled. "But I _can_ give you _my_ first – eh…one hundred and thirty-first…man kiss!" he offered. "Come here, babe!" And he jumped at Daisuke with his arms outstretched.

"No way in hell!" Daisuke shrieked, dodging out of the way and grinning with full-scale lunacy when Dark banged the side of his head into the cold aluminum of the bench. "Dark, I swear. You touch me, and you're castrated!"

Dark eeped and pulled his usually friendly hands to his chest. "No!" he cried out in horror, mentally scarred at the mere suggestion of being separated from Little Dark.

"Then behave," Daisuke warned his cellmate. Making a face, he stuck out his tongue in distaste. "Ugh. Thanks a lot, Dark. Now I have the disgusting taste of your tongue in my mouth!"

"It is _not_ disgusting!" Dark protested. "I'll have you know that half the men in this stupid prison would _kill_ to be kissed by me." He tossed his head in an arrogant manner, running a hand through his perfect hair in flourish.

"Don't kid yourself, Dark. I'm pretty sure half the men in this stupid prison have probably killed for lesser things. Say…a 100 yen coin, perhaps?" Daisuke's wide grin was fiendishly feral.

"Take that back, ochibi!" Dark ordered, pointing straight into Daisuke's face commandingly.

"Never!" Giggling madly, Daisuke jumped up and dashed back onto the field.

Dark smiled. Daisuke was finally warming up to him. …Which meant that the _bed_ would be inevitably warming up, too. The gentle smile transformed into one of his customary lecherous smirks and Dark gave chase. "Get over here Daisuke! You know you can't escape me! No one escapes–" He was almost tempted to stop running and strike a pose. "–_Dark Mousy_."

"You sound like a dirty old man," Daisuke remarked loudly, flipped his head back to shoot Dark a long, hard glare.

As soon as those words left the redhead's lips, before Dark could even comment on them, a loud call echoed throughout the area, catching everyone's attention.

"_Did someone just say 'dirty old man'? Dare he utter my old high school nickname?"_

Startled, Daisuke whipped his head forward to face the correct direction one was _supposed_ to face while running. Of course, one wasn't supposed to go crashing into people's chests while running, either.

Hey, one out of two. Not bad.

Daisuke barreled face-first into a faceless prisoner's chest, bouncing right off. With a muffled _'oomph!'_ he fell to the ground, landing rather harshly as his bum made contact with the grass. "Yeah, I said it," he grunted gruffly in response. With one eye screwed shut in pain, he painfully rubbed his abused rear, groaning slightly. "Who wants to know?" Looking up to face the fleshy wall he had just run into, he was pleasantly surprised.

There stood a blonde man, no bigger and no more intimidating than Daisuke himself. He stood in a heroic pose, knuckles firmly placed on hips and legs outstretched. His face was turned to the left, staring straight into the sky as though he had created it with his own greatness, but his true features were so bathed in the sun's light that it was impossible to see his eyes.

"I do!" the blonde exclaimed proudly. "I, _Saga Keiji_!" He twisted his neck down to finally face Daisuke, meeting his vibrant green eyes to the redhead's. **-1-** Painstakingly plucked and shaped eyebrows waggled in a suspiciously recognizable manner, automatically reminding his reluctant mind of Dark. "And who are you, cutie?" he all but bellowed into Daisuke's face.

Daisuke pulled himself to his feet, only to find himself limp in Dark's familiar embrace a mere second later.

"Hey, Saga, don't go making a move on my Dai-chan." Dark clutched the sighing Daisuke closer, burying his face into his bright claret locks. "He's mine. We've sealed the deal with a kiss just a couple of minutes ago."

Dark exchanged suggestive looks with the blonde man, causing Daisuke to blush.

"Hey, no! No deal was sealed," he tried to say.

"And tonight," Dark continued, completely ignoring Daisuke's protests, "we've planned some very sensual 'alone time.'"

"Hey, quit lying, you…liar!" Daisuke tried to order.

"Ahh," Keiji said, nodding knowingly. "I understand." His eyebrows waggled again, and Daisuke wanted to shave them right off. "But you'll have to share him, I'm afraid."

"I'm not a thing to be passed around," the flustered redhead snapped, only to be rewarded with the thrill of being blatantly ignored.

"And why is that, Saga?" Dark questioned.

"Because when I get out of here, I'll make him model for me."

Those seemed to be the magic words. Dark's eyes grew glassy and Keiji leered – frankly – like a dirty old man. Daisuke stared in horror at the two, his gaze flitting between the blonde and the wine-haired man. "M-model?" he repeated. "For what?"

"For my modeling company, of course," Keiji responded without skipping a beat.

"I, as your possessive lover," Dark added in, "will bend the rules of…possessive lover-ness…and allow you to do such a thing."

"…Whaa--?"

"You're _perfect_ for the job. You'll be loved _instantly._ I mean, just look at your smooth, pale skin, your big, scarlet eyes, and your beautiful, untamed hair!" Keiji exclaimed.

"Not to mention, Saga, his slim, girlish body, his long, wonderful legs, and his fine ass!" Dark contributed.

"Hey – _what_? I do _not_ have a girlish body!"

"We'll be having record sales of the S.E. Mod Mag when Dai-chan poses in it!"

"And the S.E. Mod Chan channel will have the highest ratings since the time _I_ was featured," Dark proclaimed, jabbing his chest with his thumb proudly.

The two stopped their exchange of brilliant ideas and turned to grin at the confused Daisuke.

"Uh…" The fact that their perverted leers looked exactly alike, down to the smallest curl, twitch, and amount of sharp teeth showing, disturbed the redhead greatly. "…What is it that you're talking about, _exactly_?"

The identical smirks widened to epic proportions. "Well first and foremost, I've mentioned the modeling part," Keiji began.

"And secondly, how badly everyone'll have the hots for you," Dark put in.

"And thirdly, that you'll be in S.E.'s Mod Mag–"

"Along with being featured in S.E.'s Mod Chan–"

"And lastly, how you'll be lusted after by millions of horny, young–"

"MEN," Dark finished.

"…_What_? You didn't run that last one by me!" Daisuke screeched.

"Saga Entertainment," Keiji explained cheerfully, "is a company created and managed by and for the–"

"Homosexual community." For some odd, unimaginable reason, Dark found it amusing to shout out the snippets of information that would most likely scar poor Daisuke's mentality for life. How odd and unimaginable!

Daisuke twitched. "So…you've got a whole plan for me…" he trailed off. Both men nodded enthusiastically. "This plan involves…me." Another pair of nods. "Me and…gay modeling." Perverted grins entered the picture. "Gay modeling…with whips and chains and black leather and stuff?"

The redhead received many a surprised blink from the two men before him.

"Well…there's not much of those first two…" Keiji sent him an odd look before it mutated into a satisfied leer. "But considering that this is _you_…" His emerald eyes trailed down Daisuke's form. "That can be changed."

"Hey, hey! Who said I'm even _gonna_ model for your stupid agency, anyway?" Daisuke snapped indignantly.

Dark and Keiji exchanged looks – having heard only the words 'I'm gonna model for your agency' – and a game only they understood was instantly instigated.

"Hand cuffs."

"Ah, yes," Dark agreed wisely. "Fishnet tights."

Keiji chuckled at the rather appealing thought. "All of what Daisuke already suggested."

"Don't forget something to drape all over him," Dark reminded his lecherous other.

"Sheen sheets in blood red?"

"No." Dark smirked widely, and Daisuke could almost _taste_ the one-syllable word that was soon to escape his mouth. "Me."

Keiji giggled.

Dark giggled.

And accordingly, the two men stumbled off balance and to the ground. Apparently, both their faces had early appointments with the straggly grass.

However, more realistic an idea was the wrath of a dark haired, dark eyed man being unleashed over them. Said man stood behind them with two rolled-up newspapers grasped in both of his hands.

Yes, Daisuke decided. That made much more sense. It wasn't like the floor was in such a hurry to meet up with those insane men any time soon anyway… Who _would _be?

"Funa-_chan_!!" Keiji whined pathetically, jumping up and rubbing his abused skull pitifully. "What was _that_ for?"

'Funa-chan' stared unblinkingly at the blonde, his blank gaze unnerving. "You told me to stop you whenever you're being too much of a pervert," he deadpanned.

Idly, Daisuke believed this guy would be able to make good conversation with the stoic Satoshi. …If the stoic Satoshi wasn't in the middle of being carted off to a broom closet by the very enthusiastic Krad, that is.

"Oh." Keiji grinned very brightly – like a five-year-old. "Good job, then, Funa-chan!"

Dark, on the other hand, peeled himself off the ground and glared at the dark-haired that had struck him down. "And why'd you get _me_, Funabashi?"

Funabashi – as Dark called him – shrugged. "I don't like you," he replied indifferently.

Daisuke grinned sheepishly. Yes. Definitely one to make good conversation with the apathetic, Dark-hating blunette.

Funabashi turned to Daisuke, his black eyes slightly intimidating. "It didn't scar you for life, did it?" He jabbed his thumb to his left, and it took Daisuke about a minute to realize that 'it' meant the still-grinning Keiji.

"Oh! …Uh. No." Daisuke shook his head. "At least, I don't think so."

Funabashi nodded. "Yes. That is good… Oh – hey!" He turned, only to find that Keiji had disappeared somewhere.

Said blonde was running around the field chasing after a butterfly. Judging by his big, yelling mouth and the way his arms didn't raise up to grab at it, it seemed as though he was trying to catch the butterfly with his mouth.

"Damn…" Funabashi sighed. "…Not again." Not seeing – or perhaps ignoring – the look of incredulity on Daisuke's face at the word 'again,' he rushed after the escaped man.

As soon as the two escaped out of sight – that was one _fast_ butterfly… – Daisuke smacked Dark upside the head, scowling profusely.

"I_tai_!" Dark held the back of his head in surprise. "What was _that_ for?"

"_You_, my sexually-stimulated friend, are a pervert," was Daisuke's only explanation.

"Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself," Dark responded wisely, a learned expression on his face.

"What the hell does that have _anything_ to do with _anything_?" Daisuke demanded.

"Nothing, except that I'm great," the thief explained. Then, without another word, he trooped back onto the football field, where Chris was calling them all in.

"…And that you're a _thing_ to be feared," Daisuke muttered under his breath, following after the mauve-eyed man.

"Alrighty then, you Japs!" Chris roared, easily catching everyone's attention. "I've just finished watching _Remember the Titans_ – my twenty-eighth time and counting – and now I'm pumped to the max to teach you the rules of _fine dining_. …I mean football. _FOOTBALL_, my fledglings, is an unforgiving, bitch-slapping game that tests your limits and sets fire to your soul! What can quench the fire, you ask? _Destroying and conquering_ the enemy. Now – first on my unforgiving, bitch-slapping agenda is…_roll call_!" The (obviously fake) blonde whipped out a clipboard and glanced at it shortly. "'Ight. Here we go. Seto Kujaku?"

"…Yeah."

Beside Daisuke, Dark shook his head in mirth. Stupid American. Pronouncing names in the _Western_ fashion. Because really – who said family names _after_ given names? How queer (and not the good kind, either).

"Dark Mousy?"

Dark turned his nose up. "Humph."

The foreigner shot him a glare. "Hey, you got a problem with me–" He glanced down at his list for a quick second. "–Dark?"

Everyone gasped. "The gaijin's being familiar with Mousy!" they all cried out. Many pairs of eyes turned to Daisuke, for there were rumors circling (courtesy of Towa-chan) about Dark and his new uke. Whispers ensued.

Daisuke stood in confusion before finally realizing that they were talking about _him _and _Dark_ – or rather, their 'hushed-up'-but-actually-nonexistent relationship. He sputtered and nearly gagged at the implication. "Hey, I don't _care_ if Mousy–" He spat out the name like a dirt-covered cucumber. "–wants the white guy, as long as he's not with me."

Gasps rang out.

"Trouble in paradise, Mousy?" one prisoner commented smugly.

Dark growled. "The only trouble in paradise, _jackass_, is the fact that _you_ and your ugly mug have somehow crashed into it."

A shrill whistle blew loudly above their squabbling, sounding in each man's ear and making his hair stand on end. "Hey everyone – SHUT UP" Chris was red in the face, a color that didn't flatter his matted, straw-like hair. "Can I get back to roll call now?" he asked patronizingly, as though they were rowdy school children and he was the strict-ass teacher.

"No," half the crowd replied bluntly – but of course, the American ignored them all.

"Ran Hidaka?" Chris glanced around. "…"

"Here."

"…" Chris blinked. "Where?"

A short man in the front of the crowd raised his arm up impatiently. "_Here_."

"Oh." Chris marked the man off. "Almost didn't see you for a second there." And as an afterthought, he added, "Damn Asian eyes must be contagious…" to which he was sent several death glares. "Daisuke Niwa?" Daisuke grumbled his presence, and the list went on.

"Wa…Wa…"

The convicts looked up as Chris struggled with a name, scorning him with their jeers.

"Hey, shut up. Your _hong ching pow_ language I can learn, but don't expect me to be able to pronounce everything correctly. S'not my fault you have wacky names. Why can't you just be called simple things? Like Bob? Or…Sean or something? Now I'm gonna try this, and I'd better not hear anything from any of you. Wa…"

Someone coughed.

"Wanna-be Kokuyoku," Chris finally spat out, very confident in his articulation.

This time, everyone _did_ laugh, but it wasn't because of Chris's faulty enunciation.

A man about Daisuke's height elbowed his way through the crowd, stomping up to Chris with a vehement expression on his face. He had stylish gold hair that was cut at the tips with messy layers and wild spikes. However, like all bishounen in the prison, his unruly hair retained a kept perfection despite its dishevelment. He was glaring at the American with pale lilac eyes and bared teeth, looking very animalistic at the moment, but Daisuke noted with a blush that had his face not been contorted in anger, the man would have looked very handsome indeed. His tanned skin was bronzed and sun-kissed, and although his hair was nearly as vibrant as Krad's, the two matched very well, for both looked entirely natural.

"It's not _Wanna-be Kokuyoku_, you _stupid_ man," 'Wanna-be Kokuyoku' bellowed loudly.

Chris glanced down at his clipboard. "…Kokuyoku Wanna-be?"

"That's _just_ as bad," the blonde snapped. "My name is Kokuyoku Wanabe. _WaNAbe_. _Be_, as in _best_. Not _be_, like…_bee_! _Wa-NA-Be_."

"Whatever, Wanna-be." Chris shrugged, waving his hand around dismissively. "Same difference."

"_NO IT'S NOT_!"

"Katsuo Yanagi?"

"_Don't ignore me, dipshit_!"

"Here."

"Heiji Takagi?"

"_Pronounce it right! Pronounce it right_!"

"Here."

By now, the very pissed off man was looking very ready to blow up. His jewel-like eyes had narrowed into slits and his hands were balled into threatening fists. "You're _really _asking for it now, you douche!" he yelled. At first, Daisuke thought he was going to punch the other man.

Instead, he un-balled his fists and collapsed onto the ground. Very pathetically, he rolled up into the fetal position, pulling his knees up and clutching the back of his neck tightly. "Why won't you pronounce it r_iiiii_ght?" he whined, drawing out the last word so childishly it made Daisuke take back any compliments on the blonde's looks.

"Who is this guy?" Daisuke muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"He's Kokuyoku Wanabe. The little weirdo's been bawling it out for the past five minutes, if you hadn't noticed," Dark replied with a smirk.

"Well, of course I noticed _that_," Daisuke huffed defensively, crossing his arms. "But really…what's _his_ problem? Is he really a _Kokuyoku_?"

The Kokuyoku family was a notorious mafia gang known for – well, being a mafia gang. Each member was a bad-ass, slit-eyed, slicked-hair gangster packed with the best of imported weaponry and a fetish for the disposal of people. Not trash. People. The 'family business' had all started when one potato-selling farmer gave out a loan, which wasn't paid within the amount of time set. First came the breaking of shovels. Then legs. Then necks.

True to their name, _Black Wings_, the Kokuyokus were a family to be feared.

Daisuke gave one last glance at the shivering/whimpering/he couldn't even describe it blonde on the ground.

…Feared. _Right._

Dark gave a noncommittal shrug. "That's what he says. All the officials and guards call him Kokuyoku 'cause that's what he's registered as, so I guess it must be his real name. But he acts like this–" He jabbed a thumb at the whiny man. "–all the time, so no one believes he's an actual yakuza man. Actually, we kinda…make fun of him…so to speak… He cracks every time we question his belonging to the Kokuyoku family. Goes psycho like a little girl. …Like now."

Daisuke stared wide-eyed at the blonde man on the floor, who was being blatantly ignored by the still roll-calling Chris. "I get this odd feeling that if I call him Kokuyoku one of the _real_ Kokuyokus is gonna come – what was the term? – blast a cap off my ass."

"Yeah, don't worry about that. He tries to make all authority figures 'waver in his evilness,' but he's pretty much given up on trying to make the rest of the inmates call him Kokuyoku. He wants us to call him by the nickname Argentine." **-2-**

"Hm. Sounds foreign." Daisuke continued to stare at 'Argentine' with a wary expression. "Oh _shit_. _Psycho_path!" He jumped back a step when Argentine bit Chris in the ankle. "Well… …He's not the least bit disturbing. Not at all…"

Dark didn't bother to bite back his chuckle. "Yeah. It's best that you stay away from him. He's a bit…insane."

Daisuke arched a cynical eyebrow. "Oh? And you're not?"

"Never said _I_ wasn't, Dai-chan."

Before Daisuke could respond to that, Chris bellowed out, "Okay! I've just finished roll. Now it is time to begin the magic of football! Take a knee, men," he ordered, getting down onto one knee himself.

No one followed his example.

"Take a knee," he repeated.

Again, no one moved.

"GET DOWN, YOU DEAF FOOLS!" Chris roared. Everyone dropped to one knee, startled by his outburst. Now calmed down, he continued with his unforgiving, bitch-slapping agenda. "Alright. Now I am going to assume that you all know how to throw a football."

There was silence. One man coughed quietly.

"…" Chris sighed. "_Ooo_kay then… Then I'm going to assume that you all know how to _catch_ a football."

The silence was unbroken, except for another cough, courtesy of the same man.

Chris exhaled exasperatedly. "Let me try a different tactic then," he decided to himself. "Raise your hand if you know what a football _looks like_."

Three or four men raised his hands, but one seemed a bit hesitant. The coughing man passed out silently.

Chris sighed once more. "Okay. This is going to take some _time_." All the men circled around him groaned.

Bask in the agony! Share the misery! _This_ was true football.

------

After being prepped on what a football looked like, how to catch one, and how to throw one, Daisuke had a surprisingly good grasp on the basic skills needed in American football. This came as a surprise to him because he…hated any and all sports known to mankind.

Chess was a bit of an exception, but really – who counted chess as a sport?

And chess pissed Daisuke off, anyway.

Chris had set them loose on the football field to practice their throwing and catching. Then he had disappeared. How suspicious.

But really, no one cared about the stupid gaijin.

"Fetch, Daisuke!" Dark tossed the ball cheerfully, banishing it away from him with an underhand throw. It flew high into the sky and somewhere to the left of Daisuke, spinning like a drunken bat. Needless to say, football was not Dark's forte.

"I'm not your damn dog, Dark," Daisuke trilled loudly, running after the ball blindly. Its pointed tip hit the ground, bouncing back into the air and over Daisuke's head.

"You're not just my dog, Dai-chan, you're my bitc–"

"Shut _up_, Dark!" Daisuke continued his attempts in catching the stray ball, but it evaded him like a chicken that knew it was going to get its head chopped off. "Stupid football! Just stay still!" It bounced off its tip once again and rolled halfway between him and Dark. The redhead continued to give chase, stooping low to scoop it off the ground.

Dark chuckled. "Well, someone's overly enthusiastic."

"It keeps running away from me," Daisuke objected defensively, biting his bottom lip in an adorable pout. "I can't _catch_ it!"

"_Now you know how _I _feel_…" Dark mumbled to himself.

"What was that?" Daisuke had caught the football and was cradling it in his arms like a baby. And he was about to throw it. _Very_ paternal.

"Nothing." The indiscernible shadow that had crossed over Dark's eyes disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. "Nothing! Throw the ball, my love!"

"M'not your love!"

"Hey, hey, we're both good, mature–" Daisuke snorted at this. "–men here. We don't need lies to mask our true emotions. Love me Daisuke. Love me with your heart!" Dark spread his arms apart, looking very ready to run at Daisuke and tackle glomp him.

Instead, Daisuke threw the football at him irritably. "Quit messing around, Dark. There's no way I'm 'loving you with my heart.'"

Dark caught the perfectly spiraling football soundly, his eyebrows wiggling in that perverse way of his. "Then _make_ love to me with your body, Dai-chan."

"Argh! That's even worse!"

Dark chuckled again. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that. I, on the other hand, _know_ that I am perfect." He puffed out his chest proudly and threw the football in the perfect football-throwing stance. He would have looked as professional as one of those linebackers or quarterbacks on TV or something – had he not thrown it so horribly that it hit the ground four or five feet away from him. "That was perfect too," he tried to convince Daisuke. "For I rule."

Daisuke glowered at the ground. "That 'I'm so great' attitude's really starting to piss me off, you know? You need to straighten up, Dark."

"Impossible," Dark said shortly.

Daisuke didn't bother to glance up at Dark as he made a grab for the ball. "What do you mean 'impossible'?"

Dark grinned, running his fingers along the hem of his shirt. "Well I _can't_ straighten up, now can I? I'm about as straight as a support beam!"

"Those are straight," Daisuke pointed out as the ball rolled closer to him.

"Well they have a circular shape," Dark replied back, rolling his eyes. "So _tight_ with details, Dai-chan! I oughtta just add in the fact that they're _hard_ – then they'll be even more similar to me. 'S'at good enough for you?" And for no reason at all, the fingers that had been running to and fro along the hem of his shirt pulled it right off.

"Dark!" Daisuke yelled out. "Why the _hell_ did you just take your shirt off!?"

Dark swung his shirt around (not like an exotic dancer, no not at all!) and finally let it go in mid-swing. It flew through the air like a parachute, billowing gracefully in the cool spring air…until it landed right in Daisuke's face, splayed over his eyes, nose, cheeks, and mouth.

The very flustered redhead quickly ripped the offending article of clothing from his face and threw it onto the floor. Oddly enough, he couldn't push that indescribable scent from Dark's shirt out of his nose. Blushingly, he realized he didn't quite want to – it was a rather nice smell, actually.

"Is there something _wrong_ with you?" Daisuke screeched, hoping that the anger of his voice made it look as though an angry flush was consuming his face instead of a blush. But really. He _was_ angry – angry that Dark had somehow made him like how the older man smelt. Yeah. That was Dark's fault.

"I'm _hot_," Dark whined. His tattoos and slightly perspiring skin glinted in the now fading sun. The word 'rippling' somehow found its way into Daisuke's mind, but he was sure it had nothing to do with Dark's muscular arms and not-too-obvious-but-still-there abs.

_You don't have to tell me!_ inner Daisuke whooped. Rational, _straight_ Daisuke clapped a hand over inner Daisuke's mouth, silencing him – himself? That thought wasn't _his_! Oh no! It was…_someone else's_, but it had somehow escaped from _their_ head and appeared in _his_. _Yes_. Obviously.

"I don't care!" Daisuke snapped. "Now put your shirt back on." Picking said shirt up off the ground, he chucked it back at Dark. It fluttered for the briefest of seconds and dropped to the dirt in a lump of Dark-greatness.

"Nah, Dai-chan, I don't think I want to."

"Do what I say!" Very inconspicuously, Daisuke's right hand inched toward the football at his knees. His steady fingers grasped the tough leather of the ball, wound in between the thick threads and ready for action.

"How 'bout I just do _you_?" Dark suggested cheerfully.

He never saw it coming.

Hollering a very embarrassing battle cry, Daisuke jumped up from his kneeling position and poised his arm for the kill. With a triumphant smirk, he flung the ball straight at Dark's stomach.

"_Umph_ – OW! Damnit!"

Daisuke winced. He had miscalculated the power and efficiency of his throw. Instead of hitting Dark in the abdomen…he had gotten him somewhere lower. Somewhere very unpleasant.

Unpleasant indeed.

"OW-ow-OW-ow-ow-ow-ow-OW-OW-OW-_OW_!" Sometime between the third and eighth 'ow,' Dark had fallen to the floor, rolled up into a ball similar to that of Argentine's. Clutching himself in what was an obviously _manly_ manner, he groaned and twitched pitifully.

"Eh…Dark?" Daisuke finally said, his voice wary. "You doing okay?"

"Doing okay? Doing okay?" Dark's voice was an octave higher in pitch. "Of course I'm doing okay! Don't I look perfectly okay?" Staggering onto his feet, he pulled himself up and flashed Daisuke a half-hearted smirk. "You think a ball to the nuts–" He couldn't hide the cringe that escaped him. "–is gonna keep me down?"

"Actually yeah…"

Dark's little smirk turned into an all-out leer. "Well then. If you have that little faith in me, why don't you just help me?" The leer seemed to multiply tenfold. "Kiss my boo-boo?" He thrust his hips forward, indicating where his 'boo-boo' was and where he wanted Daisuke to kiss him. A short cackle escaped his lips accordingly.

Daisuke, on the other hand, was unimpressed. "No," he deadpanned, "I don't think so."

Somehow, Daisuke had gotten a hold on the ball once again. This only spelled something foul for Dark. "Go get the ball, Dark," he ordered.

"But you haven't _thrown_ it yet," Dark pointed out.

"Oh, I haven't?" Feigning confusion, Daisuke lifted the ball up and glanced at it, as though he had noticed it just then. "Then I guess I _should_, ne? Catch the ball, Dark-_kun_." He grinned a very un-Daisuke-like grin, and a mere second after uttering the other's name – with a formality, for the first time ever, attached to the end – the football was soaring through the air.

High. And higher –

– Far. And farther.

"Wow, Daisuke," Dark remarked, gazing out to where the football was headed with his hand upon his brows to block the sun. "Nice throw." The football field's breadth away, it dropped into a patch of trees past the farthest goalpost neither man had noticed the entire time they were out there. Crows and other unnamed birds came flapping out of the greens and branches, cawing and squawking in indignation. "Really nice."

Daisuke smirked lazily. "Yes, nice, wasn't it? Now, if only I could just think of _whose_ job it is to retrieve the ball," he pondered in faux mystification, "_all_ the way over there…"

Dark glanced between Daisuke and the other side of the field, stringing together the meaning of the redhead's statement. "Oh _hell_ no! I'm not going exploring in the forest for a _ball_. And I'm not walking all the way over there! What is that? A _mile_?"

Chris, who had been prowling about the prisoners, popped out of thin air, waggling his finger at Dark. "Number one: it's not a _forest_, it's like, five trees. And number two: it's only 120 yards, you lazy bum. Go get the ball."

"Can't I just use that one?" Dark pointed to the football locked under the blonde's arm.

"Oh." Chris glanced down at the ball. "I'm surprised you even saw it there. But no. Go get the ball." He walked away as quickly as he had appeared, aptly mystifying Daisuke, who didn't know someone of such bulkily muscled build could disappear that quickly.

"Damn." Trudging away with the toes of his sneakers dragging heavily over the grass, Dark disappeared behind a dogpile of prisoners who were all convinced that that one ball at the bottom of the pile was his.

Daisuke grinned and sighed in relief. Finally – a moment of Darklessness. A moment of peace.

…A moment short lived.

A loudly whirring projectile suddenly hit the ground an inch from Daisuke's sneaker, and he jumped like a rabbit out of its hole. The projectile, in a blur of light brown, bounced off the ground and came ricocheting back into the air – straight into Daisuke's face.

Squeaking loudly and barely dodging what he now identified as a rogue football, Daisuke whirled around hotly. "Who threw that?" he howled, placing his hands on his hips.

In response to his question, another football came spiraling at him with twice the speed of the first. Not expecting another to be thrown right at him, Daisuke froze and received the punishment spooned out by the inanimate flying object. He doubled over in pain as the pointed tip of the ball barreled directly into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Daisuke grunted and held his stomach closely, sucking the stolen air back into his lungs. Before he could recover, another ball came flying at him. It plopped harshly onto his back, pushing him down and making him bend even further. "_Ow_! Who's _doing_ that?" he demanded into his knees. His knees did not answer him. So instead, another football was flung into the patch of grass right in front of him.

And with wide eyes, Daisuke watched it all.

The brown object's tip connected with the ground. It made a comedic _boi-yoi-yoi-yoing_ noise (which was wholly part of his imagination) and bounced up. It soared up. It was up. Then Daisuke stopped watching.

Because right between 'it soared up' and 'it was up,' _it_ had collided with his face.

Scrunching his abused face up, Daisuke felt a slight numbness glide over his nose and cheeks. "_Damn _it," he swore, straightening up with much difficulty. "Who…the _hell_ is…attacking me?" With his narrowed eyes, he gazed up and saw no one.

If Daisuke thought the worst was over, he was far from right. He really should have stayed hunched over. With his legs now unprotected, they were open shots. Predictably to anyone but him, another football came twisting toward him. He raised up his arms to protect his face, squeaking loudly as he did so.

However, at the last second, the ball dropped, but seemed to increase its speed by double. Making an actual whirring sound – like a UFO or something – it crashed into his right thigh. Daisuke froze up in that instant, eyes widening to an impossible size. He could almost _hear_ the electricity spark within his thigh, sending shocks and pangs and other synonyms for shocks and pangs up and down his leg.

Shrieking rather girlishly (though he would never admit it), his right leg froze up and grew useless. With the loss of support, his entire body went crashing down into the ground. Hard. **-3-**

"_ARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!_" Grabbing his thigh in pain, he rocked forward a bit, grimacing so agonizingly that it contorted his face into a scrunched up rendition of one, rather than an actual face.

"I can't…get up," the redhead wailed, releasing his dead leg and rolling onto his stomach. "Damn you, eh…you mysterious ball-thrower."

Daisuke fell silent at that, content to let his chin rest over the grass and his eyes to linger on a couple of clumps of dirt in front of him. However, his gaze caught something that _wasn't_ a clump of dirt or grass. It was dark, and it was moving. In fact, it was getting bigger…and closer…

And it was a shadow.

Daisuke could tell by its shape and the way it spiraled that it was another football. Rather than roll over and try to dodge it like a normal person would, he braced himself for impact, assuming that it would hit yet another embarrassing part, like his butt or something.

Ploink – THUNK! 

Not bothering to stifle his cry of surprise and immense pain, Daisuke exploded as the ball made contact with the back of his head. It jumbled up all those pretty brains in that pretty head of his, and effortlessly drilled a football-shaped hole into his skull. Or – at least – it felt like this had all happened.

Feeling lightheaded and knocked out of it, Daisuke rolled over onto his back, dropping his arms out in spread-eagle position. It was silent for a moment, and he amused his rather blank and scrambled mind with the white dots and swirls that danced in his vision.

"What's this? All alone on the ground, D_aaaiii_suke?"

A voice broke his silence and immediately, the befuddled Daisuke blinked. Only one other person would speak his name with such enthusiasm and familiarity. He _recognized _the voice…but couldn't quite place it. He blinked again.

_Hey._ His head kind of hurt…

And _damn_. His leg – not to mention his entire body – was _killing_ him.

There was a rustling of grass and gravel, and suddenly, a shadow was cast over him, shielding the sun from his vision.

_Hey, hey! Wazgon'on?_ Daisuke's limp body twitched a bit (which cause a sharp pang to down his spine), but that did nothing to hinder what was being done to him. Two hands had grabbed him by the underarms, and were currently dragging him across the field, over the grass and along the concrete ground. It took him another moment to realize that he was being _dragged_, but when he did, his head hurt even more.

_Sleep_, Daisuke resolved wearily. _That'll help._

And so, without so much as a struggle, he let himself be pulled away, still blinking drowsily.

"I got the ball! You'll never believe where it landed, Dai – eh? Dai-chan?" _Dark_. "Dai-chan! Where'd you go?" Dark's almost hysterical voice rang throughout the field.

Wait. That confused Daisuke. If Dark was _all_ the way over there somewhere…then who was this dragging him?

"Sleep tight, little Niwa, and don't let the molesters bite…" the familiar voice sang from somewhere above him. Funny. The voice somehow sounded right next to his ear…

"Oh who am I kidding? Of course I'm gonna bite…"

It was then that Daisuke's stupefied mind began to panic. Who was it? Where was he going?

"…Dark," Daisuke gurgled. He couldn't yell; he couldn't even struggle. His head hurt and the rest of his body felt as heavy as lead.

"Daisuke!" Dark's voice sounded farther away. But then again, so did the crunch of gravel against his back. How odd. Come to think of it, the entire world was growing shadowy, too. Seriously odd.

The last thing the redhead saw was a pair of abnormally lavender eyes staring down at him. They sparkled with mischief and danced with amusement, playing off the glow of the sun. _…Dark?_

Then world turned black. Daisuke lost consciousness as forced sleep claimed him, his mind nothing but an endless abyss of darkness.

Darkness.

Dark.

Dark… 

------

**1:** Who here knows Keiji's eye color? O.o I don't… Whatever – they're _green_ now! xDDD Oh, and I'm sorry if I made him seem like a little ADD-kid…but butterflies, man! _Butterflies!_

**2:** Who here knew it was him? Eh? xD We all know how much of a wanna-be Kokuyoku Argentine is in the manga. Heheh… I wanted to incorporate that into the story in an AU sort of way – and well, I did. xD

**3: **FUCK DEAD LEGS! My two stupid friends gave me FOUR in twenty minutes. Lai, if you're reading this – EFF YOU! ./runs around screaming/ I fell on the ground a total of four times and just burst out _SCREAMING _three It hurt like _hell_ mixed in with _more_ _hell_. X.X

**Killah: **HAHAHAHA! CLIFFHANGER!!! _How do yah like __that_ HUH? …xD

Stupid for Daisuke to pass out, huh? …Oh well…whatever. He took hard hits to the stomach, the back, the face, the thigh (DAMNED DEAD LEG!), and the head. …I think he's entitled to pass out, thank you very much. xD …I dunno if you care… But I got hit in the face with a football – right in the eye. It was an electrifying experience, I'll tell you that. Heh…

/cough/ And also…SORRY FOR THE _LLLOOOONNNNGGGGEEEESSSSTTT_ WAIT EVER! Go ahead and attack me – for the century-long wait _and_ the cliffy. I deserve it. x.X

Of course…to attack me…means that you'd have to…**review**. xD


	8. Enter Uno and the Journey

**Title: **Why The Caged Bird Sings**  
Pairing: **Dark/Daisuke; side Krad/Satoshi

**Summary: **([DarkDaisuke KxS) Welcome to prison, where the convicts are men, the men are gay, and the gay are drop dead gorgeous. Enter Dark, who wants to bang his new, innocent cellmate. Now enter Daisuke _–_ something Dark wholly plans to do. Ah, the wonders of the big house.

Usual disclaimers apply and I warn you of perversion, AU-ness, definite OOC-ness, language, and bad cracks at Asians. (Sorry, I can't help it. xD)

And not to mention updates at long, monthly intervals. nn;; Sorry 'bout that… /sheepish grin/ Hey, I will be the first person to tell you all this: I am a bitch. Heheh… I am one because of my poor updating skills and my…yeah. I think that's about it. Other than that, I'm a freaking angel. :D Heheh… But really – I seriously suck. My updates for stories range from about 2 months to…hell, more than that. I don't _mean_ to take such a long time…but I just do. I thank you all for all the support, and for the reviews telling me to hurry up – I take those to heart. I try to obey them. Really, I do!

**Read this: **I just want everyone to know that **I will not abandon this fic**. And besides, if I ever _decide_ to abandon it (which I don't plan on!), than I'll TELL YOU GUYS. I'm not too big on reviews coming and asking "Are you planning to finish this?" or "Please don't discontinue this." I _haven't gotten any_ as of yet – which I'm glad for – and I plan to keep it that way. I'm happy that you guys are patient with me. I mean, you can scream at me and tell me to resurrect myself from my death (because I die many times :D), that's fine. Just don't lose faith in me. This fic **will** have an ending. Even if it's a half-assed attempt at an ending because I lost interest, it _will_ have one. I won't leave you with a chapter and decide to stop forever. You'll get your half-assed chapter!

…Though I'm really aiming for a good ending you'll all remember, cherish, and pass on to your children. /cough/ …Well, I don't advise you to share this story with your children…but whatever. xD

By the way, I'll single out **Brie92** for a second here. She is my 300th reviewer! Holy crap! Exclamation point! Claps out to her, friends. -Clap, clap, clap- Heheh… Never in my life would I have ever thought I would get my review count up this high… But holy smacks! It has! …Anyway – _everyone_ rocks my stupidly mismatched socks! I love you all to freakin' death! ./tackle glomp of _DOOM_/ Despite my untimely, chapter-updating-less death, you've all managed to return to me and review. Heheh… I hope you enjoy this chapter. x3

------

"Coach! Coach!" Dark ran up to Chris hysterically, his eyes frantically flitting around in his sockets. "I lost my boyfriend!"

Chris blinked at him. "Eh…retrace your steps," he concocted experimentally. "Where was the last place you put him?"

"I didn't put him anywhere!" Dark snapped, looking flabbergasted. "He can walk around on his own, for your information."

Now it was Chris's turn to look flabbergasted. "Wait a second." He stared at Dark over the rim of his black-tinted sunglasses. "What kind of tree are we talking about here? A _walking_ one?"

A vein pulsed angrily on Dark's temple. "What the _hell_? Who here is talking about _trees_, you moron?"

Chris glowered at Dark. "_You_. You said you lost your tree."

Dark nearly imploded into himself. "I lost my _boyfriend_. You know – my lover, my boy toy, my uke, my fuck buddy, my hole!"

Chris grinned. "Oh, is that all? There's a hole over there." He pointed out to a hole of dirt beside the bleachers. "You can plant some seeds there – you might even grow yourself a new tree to replace your lost one."

Dark, who was busy resisting the urge to sock Chris right in the face, spun on his heel and walked away, silently seething.

_Daisuke…_

------

_…Daisuke…_

He awoke to the sound of a melodious piano softly trilling a classical tune. It was slow, soft, and calming, but it seemed to fill him with an odd sense of happiness and energy. However, at the same time, it was lulling him back to sleep. He wanted to fade back to black, to surrender himself back to the darkness.

The second that thought entered his head, a screeching electric guitar riff joined the piano, filling the air with its monstrous screams. _Baba-BUM. Baba-BUM_. The rhythmic beating of a drum kit soon followed, which obviously meant – _CRASH!!!!_ A cymbal.

Daisuke's eyes snapped wide open, his eyelids not even fluttering. They were simply closed one minute, and had suddenly risen the next – something he sorely regretted when his vision suddenly went blurry.

"Itai…"

"Ah, so you're finally awake."

The redhead's vision cleared, and his gaze locked with a pair of light violet eyes hovering above him. They were the very same pair of light violet eyes he had last seen before he passed out. "You!" he cried out, recognizing the familiar face instantly. The eyes and hair were unmistakable. "Dark–!"

"I'm not that stupid man, you moron," the man above him snarled. A lock of blonde, kept hair fell out of place and into his face.

"I _know_ you're not Dark," Daisuke snapped back. "I was simply calling out his name so that he could save me from you, you rapist-slash-kidnapper-slash-person-who-knocked-me-out-with-a-hoard-of-footballs."

"Oh." His captor nodded in thought. "All right then."

It was silent.

"…"

"…"

"Uh…"

Daisuke lifted his arm up to stretch, only to be stopped by a rope around his wrist. Funny. He hadn't noticed it there before.

"Oh. I guess I'm stuck here then." It was more of a question than a statement, really.

"Yes." The blonde grinned.

"…"

"…"

"Can I go now?"

"No." The purple-eyed other chuckled. "No, no. It's best you stay here." The small grin he donned grew immediately, stretching miles across his face. "Best for me, that is." A malevolent giggle broke from Argentine's lips.

Daisuke broke into a sweat, his face devoid of an emotionless mask – or any mask for that matter. He was seriously worried.

Before, it had just been Dark. The horny bastard would make passes at him, grope him, hit on him, brand him with his name, and all other sorts of tomfoolery…but it had never gone farther than that. Now, he was tied up in some almost-gangster's cell, all alone, with no one to save him.

He never would have thought it possible, but he wanted Dark by his side. He wanted Dark right now.

However, the moment of fear, trepidation, apprehension, etc was short lived.

Argentine was making odd faces at him – pulling at the skin beneath his eyes, waggling his tongue, doing a little Irish jig. For no understandable reason, he was doing these things. It was pretty hard to fear a moron. He looked like a bloody mad fool, though his face donned a very triumphant smirk for some reason. There seemed to be a reason for his odd behavior.

"I know what you're thinking," the blonde suddenly broke in, stopping his idiosyncratic motions and pulling himself up onto the bed and right beside Daisuke's still body, causing the redhead to stiffen even more. "Why am I, a very notorious Kokuyoku, kidnapping you and tying you up in a very shady manner that hints my lust for you, when I with my oh so fergalicious body could just seduce you and make you mine?" Leaving no time for the scoffing, no longer fearful Daisuke to reply, the blonde continued on. "Well, because you are the cut-off piece of a puzzle jig; a tiny chunk blown off from a stepping stone; a near-dead, struggling insect trapped in the web of my master plan. You are nothing, so I must use you to get to the other."

"What other?" Daisuke demanded, a wee bit miffed about being called all those belittling things – especially that part about him being a tiny chunk. He was _not_ tiny!

"The one other member of the Kokuyoku clan in this prison house, of course," Argentine snapped, as though it were the most obvious thing in Nova Scotia. "You sleep with him, you eat with him, you spend every waking minute with him…" He trailed a sly finger down Daisuke's chest. "You know who…"

Daisuke wiggled sourly, trying to rid his torso of the wandering finger. "No, I don't. I don't know any Kokuyokus. I mean…I know you, of course." He paused a moment, to set the trap. "But you don't really count, now do you?" The ghost of a smirk flitted over the young man's face before disappearing.

"You!" Argentine purpled. "You, you… You shut up!"

"Oh, all right then." Feeling very cheeky and Dark-like for some reason, Daisuke shut his eyes. "I guess you don't want to talk to me anymore." Closing his mouth and turning his head away from Argentine, he tried to ignore the warm body pressed up beside him.

It was silent.

But not until Argentine shifted around in a flurry of sheets, somehow ending up on top of the vulnerable Daisuke, straddling his hips with his knees. "Not up for talking, Niwa?" he questioned mockingly, his lips nearly touching the shell of the redhead's ear. "Well we could do other things that don't require talking…" The innuendo in his suggestion was more than obvious.

Daisuke's eyes snapped open at the insinuation, and he squeaked out what was meant to be an indignant snarl. "All right!" he yelped, his voice an octave higher than usual. "We can talk!"

Argentine smirked, lightly nipping Daisuke's ear once before hopping up off the bed. "Do you want to hear my master plan?" he asked, quite cheerful and looking as though he was no longer angry about Daisuke's Kokuyoku joke at his expense. "Because that's what we gangsters do. We tell our hostages our master plans." The blonde looked very smug.

"Oh, all right then."

Argentine looked delighted. "I will use you as my bait to lure Dark over to my cell. …Then I will _kill_ him!"

Daisuke blinked. "…That's it?" he deadpanned, looking disinterested.

"What do you mean, 'That's it?'" Argentine demanded. "I think it's a flippin' _brilliant_ plan."

Rolling his eyes, Daisuke turned his nose once again. "Whatever you say, Wanna-Be."

Argentine nearly exploded. "_WANABE!_ It's Wanabe!"

"Yeah, all right." Daisuke shrugged to the best of his ability, his voice expressing the utmost sarcasm possible.

Very close to popping a blood vessel, the violet-eyed man let out a strained chuckle. "Thanks for asking, there, Niwa. I _will_ tell you why I am killing off your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Daisuke snapped.

"Well he bangs you, doesn't he?"

Daisuke's lip puckered. "NO."

Argentine scoffed. "What kind of boyfriend is he?"

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"Well then I'll kill him," Argentine decided blithely.

"You have fun with that," Daisuke replied, his lips still pulled into a sour grimace.

"Don't you want to know why?"

"No."

"Yes?"

"No."

"Yes?"

"No."

"I'll rape you, little boy."

"All right, fine! But just know that I no longer fear you. You're not a threat. You're just a horny old man. …One that tries to offer a little boy a Popsicle, only to giggle evilly when he says yes and reveal to him that it's in his pocket… Y-yeah. I'm not scared of you… **-1-**" Daisuke's twitching left eye betrayed his emotions.

Argentine blinked. "…All right then. …Carrying _on_. I will kill Kokuyoku Dark for all the shame he has brought to our family, for abandoning the clan in favor of his petty thieving, for leaving the empty milk cartons in the fridge after drinking all of the milk, for–"

"Wait a second," Daisuke interrupted. "Dark… Dark… He would never…"

"Never what? Never drink all the damn milk and stick the empty cartons back into the fridge? Neh, yeah, you'd think that, but no – he did, that bastard!" Argentine looked absolutely livid. Over milk.

"Actually…" Daisuke arched an eyebrow. "I was gonna say that he would never hide the fact that he was part of a huge mafia gang from me…" The cynical look on his face faded and was replaced with a bit of indignation. "He wouldn't lie to me. He's not really a Kokuyoku. It's you who's lying to me!"

Argentine barked out a laugh. "You must not know Dark, then. He likes to lie. It's like his favorite thing next to thieving. He told us he was moving to the US to spread our kind on the east coast, but really; he left our clan and abandoned our ways as a notorious mafia family. What did he turn to then? Whoring out his new name, Dark Mousy, as a 'great Phantom Thief.'" Argentine sneered.

"Well…well…" Daisuke was at loss for words. "Even if you are telling the truth, why should I care?"

Argentine laughed. "I never said you should care. However, I advise you to fear. I've seen Dark do some serious shit in his time. By the time he was fifteen, he was a bloodthirsty hit man for his father. Blood everywhere; on his clothes, on his face – hell, sometimes, he got it in his mouth. And he _loved_ it. By the time he was seventeen, the mafia life caught up with him and so the sex scandals and such began. Hired women, hired men – good lord, it was like a giant strip club, all in Dark's side of the mansion." Argentine let out another laugh. "That dog.

"There are two main points about Dark that you should know. When he couldn't get his fix on torture, in came the _deaths_. When he was denied sex, _rape_ came in to play. He was a true Kokuyoku." Argentine smirked, his eyes glittering admiringly. "But now I shall kill him for his foolishness. That's the business."

But Daisuke wasn't listening. He was lost in thoughts to Dark. Dark being a huge mafia man. Dark fucking whores and prostitutes. Dark killing people left and right. Dark covered in blood and looking absolutely smug.

For some reason, that last scenario slightly appealed to him – just slightly. …Was he a masochist?

…No, that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all…

R_iiiii_ght.

"So what to do until cousin Darky gets here?" Argentine questioned aloud.

Daisuke feigned contemplation. "Hm… Letting me go free would be a pretty fun past time," he suggested.

Argentine bit back a chuckle. "You clever one, you. …But no. Instead, we'll play a little…game." A smirk stretched across the blonde's lips and his eyebrows were going haywire as he raised and lowered them.

"W…what kind of game?" Daisuke ventured, his tone wavering between fear and confusion.

"A game _I_ will very much like. However, the same cannot be said for you." Argentine's suggestive tone scared the redhead. "You and I, my little songbird…"

Daisuke broke into a sweat.

"…will play…"

By now he was counting his blessings.

"UNO!"

------

Outside, on the prison grounds, the frantic Dark was roaming the courtyard in search of his lost comrade and soon-to-be-though-unaware-of-this-fact lover.

"Daaaaaiiiiisssuuuuuuukkkkkeeeee! Come back to me!!! I'm _nothing_ without you! I want to feel your warm touch against my skin one more time. I want to frolic around the pasture of my countryside home with you. I want to fuck that tight bod of yours until we're both wrinkly and old. …I want your bod."

That last part was inspired by that one American commercial for Bod body spray (or whatever it was…).

It seemed fun to say. And really. It was. **-2-**

"Mousy!"

Head snapping to the direction of the voice calling his name, Dark saw Takeshi a few feet before him at the gate that led back to the prison house.

"Why aren't you…eh…gallivanting around the place like you usually do?" Takeshi slipped his ever-handy clipboard under his arm and sent the convict a look. "What are you up to?"

It was the first time ever Dark was excited to see one of the guards. He nearly skipped forward and hugged Takeshi, but he controlled the urge, instead pressing on to more important matters. "Daisuke's been kidnapped!"

Takeshi arched an eyebrow, and his long pause suddenly caused Dark to feel very foolish for some reason. "…How can you get kidnapped in a prison, Mousy?" Maybe that was the reason.

Dark paused a moment to ponder Takeshi's question. Slowly, the gears in his mind turned, until the only logical reasoning his mind produced was, "Aliens."

Takeshi lowered his inquisitive brow, opting instead to send Dark a calming – if not patronizing – look. "See here, Mousy. You're overreacting."

Dark sent him a questioning look, as though the word _overreacting_ was not a part of his vocabulary – and indeed, it probably was not.

Takeshi sighed, tiredly running a hand through his hair. He lowered it slowly, his mind concocting an explanation that could be used to get through to Dark's head. "Well… Remember when Hikari and Hiwatari first became your cellmates?"

"Uh-huh," Dark chirped.

"And remember, when you were all supposed to be out here for break, you came running up to me – to this exact same spot – spouting some nonsense about how they went missing?"

"Uh-huh," Dark sang in that same cheery, oblivious manner.

"Right. And remember when I had said, 'Hey, maybe they're just in their cell. Maybe they didn't want to hang out here in the sun'? And you shot down my logical idea with a wild exclamation of how they had been kidnapped?"

"Yep-erooni!"

"And remember when you had dragged me all around the grounds, screaming your head off yelling for them? And how I had finally snapped and forced you back to your cell?"

"Y_eeeee_sssss."

"And do you remember what we _saw_, once we got back to your cell?" Takeshi grimaced slightly at the memory.

"Krad and Satoshi having mad sex on the empty bed, screaming each other's names when they finally creamed each other?" Dark ventured confidently, his smile never waning.

Takeshi sweatdropped at Dark's classy choice of wording. "Yes… _That_. They had never been kidnapped to begin with. Now what do you think the point of my little story is?"

Dark thought for a moment. However, his contemplative expression slowly melted, and was replaced with one of complete and utter horror. "Oh my _god_. You're totally right! Daisuke hasn't been kidnapped at all!"

Takeshi smiled, looking very close to handing Dark a golden star sticker. "That's right! Now you just get yourself back to the –"

"He's been lured back to the cell, and right as we speak, he's being _raped_! By none other than _Krad_ and _Satoshi_! Those bastards!" The vehement Dark slammed his fist into his open palm. "They can grope each other all they want, but they can't have him! How dare they take my Daisuke! He's mine! I never tried to take Satoshi away from Krad!"

"Actually, you did…"

"Well, I never tried to take Krad from Satoshi!"

"…Yeah, you tried that, too."

"Well… _Shut up, _Saehara! Come, come, let us go and save my uke from those bastardized rapists!"

And for some unexplainable reason, Guard Saehara followed the overzealous prisoner on his journey to 'save his uke from those bastardized rapists.'

------

"What. The. Hell. _Argentine!!!_" Daisuke shook his head in a manner unlike that of a dog's, growling as three cards fell out of his thick mass of red hair. They twirled past his face to the sheets he was currently lying atop, laying there innocently, as though they had not just been thrown right at him. "I've _told_ you over and _over_ again: you're not supposed to throw the cards at people in Uno when you don't have the damn machine!" **-3-**

Argentine blew a tuft of blonde hair out of his face, rolling his brilliant mauve eyes. "You're just bitter because you haven't had the chance to throw the cards at me."

Daisuke's eyes nearly popped out of his head in exasperation, and he let out a frustrated sigh. "Well gee Argentine, I wonder _why_. Oh yeah – its because both my hands are tied above my head, you moron!" True to his word, Daisuke was still lying on his back, with both hands tied above his head and with a hand of cards placed before him (facing upright because Argentine was a dirty cheater.)

Argentine sniffed haughtily. "Sore loser."

It was Daisuke's turn to roll his eyes. Both garnet gems turned to the heavens (a.k.a. the ceiling) in desperation. "Dark… Where _are_ you?" he murmured.

Beside him, out of the corner of his eye, Daisuke saw Argentine stiffen at his barely audible words.

"Calling for Dark? What's the deal with you, Niwa?"

Daisuke turned his head fully, eyeing Argentine warily. "You kidnap me and tie me up, and then _you_ ask _me_ what my deal is? Ha!" Rolling his eyes, the redhead scoffed. "Gee, maybe I'm calling for him because I want to be saved from my captor. But I dunno, I have some sort of _deal_ going on in my head, so I can't be sure."

Argentine's facial expression didn't even flicker. "No. I'm really curious. I kidnap you, not for my own freakish pleasure or anything, but to use you as bait for Dark. My will to kill him has put your life on the line. I then tell you that he's from a mafia family, and that he knows his way around a knife, a machete, a gun, etc. I also tell you of his sexual tendencies, and how he gets when he can't consensually get off." Argentine tilted his head to the side in a manner unlike that of a confused puppy's. "And still, you call for him. Why?"

Daisuke was at loss for words. Uncertainly, he shrugged. "Uhm." He had absolutely no response to Argentine's question. "I…trust him."

Argentine's face hardened from its curious expression to a scornful one. "You trust him? After everything I said. _Everything_?"

Daisuke shook his head. "Um. I guess so. He hasn't wronged me yet."

"And you're gonna wait for that wrong? What if that wrong is more than you can handle? What if that wrong _breaks_ you?" Argentine's face was scrutinizing as he studied Daisuke carefully.

"I have to believe. I have to believe that when he comes and saves me from you that he won't do anything to hurt me," Daisuke declared, his eyes hard as they bore into Argentine's familiar amethysts.

"If," Argentine corrected. "If he comes to save you."

"When," Daisuke repeated resolutely.

Argentine sighed. "Well you know, when he does come… I'm not giving him the chance to get away." Argentine smiled; a sweet, angelic smile that coated his next words with a heavenly façade. He turned away, staring dramatically out the window of his cell. "Once he walks in to gallantly save you, he won't be leaving."

"…"

"…"

Daisuke coughed.

Argentine snapped out of his theatrical pose and glared. "What the hell was that for? That could have been the perfect ending!"

Daisuke arched a brow. "The perfect ending for what, exactly?" he demanded.

Argentine sweatdropped. "I don't know, actually. It just seemed like the right thing to say at the moment…"

Daisuke sighed. "Dark, you better get your ass over here right _now_." And almost immediately, a playing card nailed him in the right eye.

"_Damnit, Argentine!_" Daisuke glared down at the offending card that had hit him. "Hey… An ace of spades… That's not even an Uno card!"

"Uno!" Argentine declared proudly.

------

Dark sped into Cellblock 4, looking for the door that led to the cellblock adjacent to it, Cellblock 6. As he led the way through the stony building with Takeshi trailing uncertainly at his heels, the thief found that his pace was gradually increasing by the second. His hands were clenching and unclenching in anxiety, and his eyes had widened to the size of plates. Almost unconsciously, he broke out into run, his athletic build pumping him forward.

He had to get to Daisuke.

He had to save Daisuke.

From the rapists Krad and Satoshi, of course.

Because there was no one else he would have to save Daisuke from, right?

Of course.

However, as Dark neared the door that led out of the cellblock, he ran right past an entire wall of occupied cells. Something in one of those cells caught his entire attention.

The violet-haired man froze in his steps, stopping directly in front of that one cell.

"Oh my god."

------

**1:** Random, right? …WRONG! This happened to my friend Adrian once. xD The old guy just kept asking if he wanted a Popsicle, and he kept saying no until he got tired to being asked and just said yes. …Then the guy was all, "It's in my pocket…" Creepy, eh? xDDD

**2: **Really. It is! _I want your boooooood. _Hahaha. xDDD

**3: **I don't know how to play Uno, but I saw some guy friends of mine throwing Uno cards at each other, so I thought, _'Hey, it's like they're playing with the machine!'_ And then…I just recently found out that there is no machine that spits cards out at you, like how they advertised the game on TV. It's a jip, I tell you!!! A JIP!!!!!!!! AHHHHH!!!

**Killah: **Hm. What did Dark see? ./wiggles eyebrows/

Fuck. I feel like such a jerk whore bastard monster face. :(:(:( Argh!!! This chapter wasn't that great… And it was only like…half the length of the last chapter… But please enjoy it. I'll try to get my ass in gear and write up the next one. Thanks for being so patient and crap. I love you, my lovely readers. /sniffle/ I'm such a jerk whore bastard monster face… x.X I am… Well… 'Til next time, I guess. Bye. xD


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